


Scattered

by andachippedcup



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Character Death, Crossover, F/M, Zombie Apocalypse, flarrow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-03-02 08:05:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 23
Words: 110,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2805503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andachippedcup/pseuds/andachippedcup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After her first date with Oliver Queen goes explosively awry, Felicity Smoak wakes up from a coma, alone in the Foundry, to find that Starling City has once more been struck by disaster. This time, an altered formula for the Vertigo drug has created a highly contagious, very lethal pathogen that kills its victims and then reanimates them as frenzied, undead beings. Felicity must fight against overwhelming odds to survive and find her loved ones, all the while uncertain if they are alive or dead - or worse, infected. </p><p>Spoilers from S3 premiere and beyond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She awoke with a start and before she was even aware of what was happening she sat bolt upright.

"Oliver!" Her hands reached for him across a table that was no longer there and slowly, Felicity's world expanded. Blinking, Felicity took in her surroundings, the restaurant she last remembered seeing now replaced with the Foundry, which was almost entirely dark, save for a single light at the foot of the table she'd been laid out on.

Rubbing her temples, Felicity tried to recall how she had gotten from her dinner date with Oliver to here but the last thing she could come up with was Oliver jumping across the table at her before everything became a giant blank in her memory.

Dropping her hands from her face, she realized that she had an IV in her arm and following the tubes with her eyes, she saw a medical stand beside her which held quite a few now empty bags of what had once been fluids, she assumed.

"How long have you guys had me down here?" She murmured groggily, poking the point where the IV entered her skin and wincing.  _God she hated sharp things_. Taking stock of her body, she realized the IV tube wasn't the only thing connected to her as she found another tube, running over it with her fingers and tracing it to…

"Oh my gosh, please no." She murmured frantically, lifting the hospital gown she was wearing to find that, indeed, they'd gone and put a catheter in her. A catheter. If Oliver Queen had gone all vigilante surgeon on her and inserted a catheter tube into her bladder rather than take her to the hospital, they were going to have  _words_. He might have a jaw that could cut granite but she was a bitch with Wi-Fi and if he had done this? Oh… she would make certain he regretted it.

Unable to see much of the Foundry in the dark, Felicity carefully ensured that all her medical gear was attached to the rolling IV holder and gingerly, swung her feet over the edge of the table, hesitating for a moment before she pushed herself off the table.

For a moment, she thought her feet would hold her but a second later she felt her knees buckle beneath her own body weight, her muscles stiff from lack of movement, she assumed. Groaning, she pushed herself up into a sitting position, rubbing the shoulder that had absorbed most of the impact. She wasn't off to a great start.

Leaning heavily on the table and the surrounding objects though, Felicity managed to get to her rolling office chair and with a victorious sigh, she sat down in it and relaxed for a moment.

"It's the little victories." She reminded herself aloud, smiling briefly before she reached to turn on the lamp at her work station, frowning when no light accompanied the clicking sound of the button. "Come on." She grunted, trying again with no success. After scooting her chair around to confirm that it was plugged in, she rolled back to her desk and tried turning on her computer, meeting with similar results.

"Did we blow a fuse box or something? Seriously guys, a girl takes one nasty little hit to the head and the whole Foundry falls apart? Come on." She breathed aloud, scooting her chair to a drawer where they kept spare flashlights and then wheeling her way over to the breaker box, surveying the panel thoughtfully before she began to press buttons, frowning when no lights came on in response to her efforts. At long last she slammed the panel door shut in frustration, at wit's end.

"Fine! I'll just sit here in the dark then." She growled, wheeling her way back to the table she'd awoken on. A little searching and she found her purse, crowing in delight as she fished her glasses and her phone out of it. With nothing short of glee, Felicity pulled her glasses on and powered on the phone, so overjoyed to have found it she could have kissed the beautiful little touch screen. If she couldn't get power back on in the Foundry, she could at least call Oliver to come back here and explain what had happened. And also to take her to the hospital so she could get the damn catheter out – no way was she going to let him play doctor with her on that one,  _nope_. She had envisioned him seeing that much of her under very different circumstances. Far less  _medical_ circumstances.

To her dismay though, when her phone screen flashed to life in the predominant darkness, the cell tower icon had a circle with a line through it beside it, signaling that she had no service.

"Of course. Because cell reception would be too much to ask for in a high tech, former billionaire, vigilante's lair." She huffed, tucking her phone back into her purse, which she pulled over her shoulder with only a little difficulty. A prickle of unease was beginning to grow in the back of her mind now as she looked about her surroundings, uncertain what to do with all her tech gear down and no clue where John or Oliver or Roy were at.

It was then that she realized that the lone functioning light in the Foundry was attached to a generator. A generator which, she was pretty certain, was a new addition to the place, because she couldn't remember ever seeing it before.

There was only one thing for it. She was going to have to go up to the main floor of the club and ask for help. How she'd explain showing up like some crazy escaped hospital patient, Felicity wasn't sure. But she was pretty sure that she needed to ditch at least the catheter.

She had to try to retain  _some_  of her dignity.  The IV though, that would have to stay  - the idea of pulling anything remotely sharp out of herself had her feeling queasy.

A trip to the bathroom and some muttered curse words later, she was at least free of the catheter. And bonus? She'd managed to find some sweat pants and a baggy old shirt of hers she'd left in the foundry as a 'just in case' outfit.  _Good thing too,_ she thought to herself as she leaned heavily on the IV stand, surveying the stairs uneasily.

"Alright… they're just stairs. I can do this. I can  _totally_ do this." Felicity rallied herself, turning off the sole light and using her flashlight for guidance as she went. Her legs felt stiff and weak, and she had a pins and needles sensation all over but hey, if climbing those stairs meant she could get rid of her IV, go home and enjoy a bubble bath and a (large) glass of wine, then she was  _totally_  going to climb these stairs.

Definitely.

It was a slow going and she had to sit down once to rub her legs to get rid of the tingling in them but she made it to the top of the stairs and after some shoving on the heavy door, she was able to crack the door open wide enough for her and her IV stand to slip outside and onto the main floor of Verdant.

The first thing she noticed was how dark it was in here too; apparently the power was out to the entire building, not just the Foundry. Stumbling along with her IV stand, she made her way to the main dance floor where, mercifully, the sunlight from outside brightened the place through the windows. Clicking off her flashlight, Felicity surveyed the club uneasily; she couldn't see or hear anyone moving about inside the building. She would have expected to run into the manager, or one of the bartenders or someone,  _anyone_  by now. And she'd still found no signs of Oliver, John, or Roy.

"H-Hello? Anyone here? …  _Oliver_?" She tried nervously, gulping when silence met her cries. "John? Roy? Sara?" A pause as she glanced about her, feeling like she was in some bad horror movie where a killer was about to spring out and murder her. "Thea?!" She added in a tiny voice, swallowing fearfully though truth be told she wasn't sure if that was because of the situation she was in or because she'd just called the name of Oliver's sister who, at last check, was globe-trotting and most definitely not in Starling City. Seriously, where was her brain at?

Her earlier unease grew greater, coiling about her stomach and filling her with a sense of cold dread. Something was very,  _very_  wrong. But whatever it was, one thing was clear – if she was going to find her friends, she had to look elsewhere.

Staring down at her feet, bare except for a pair of hospital socks, Felicity was keenly aware she was going to look like an escaped mental patient, dragging an IV stand and dressed only in the loose white tee and thin gray sweat pants she'd thrown on. But given that she hadn't seen any more normal clothes to change into down in the Foundry, she didn't really have time to worry over her wardrobe.

She'd just have to hope that her car was parked around the back. Or, that there was some indifferent cab driver out there willing to take her fare regardless of how bedraggled she must look.

It was a slim chance, she realized. But maybe bribing the driver with the offer of double what the fare was worth would make it more doable. She could expense a cab drive to the company, right? Totally.

Making her way out onto the employee entrance of the club, she looked up and down the alley in surprise, taking in the sight of the abundant trash and general disarray. Even by the Glades' low standards, this was…  _messy_.

"What the hell happened here?" She muttered to herself, clutching her IV stand tighter to her as she rolled it down the alley, clenching her teeth at how loud the rattling of the wheels sounded compared to the silence around her. There was none of the usual white noise – no vehicles driving around, no voices talking or yelling, no garbage trucks emptying the abundant refuse, no drunken club goers coming back to reality after a hard night of partying… There was just Felicity and her IV stand and a really,  _really_ messy alley.

Pulling out her phone again she peered at the screen, her mouth going dry when it still showed no signal despite being out of the interfering sublevels of the Foundry. There was no reason the phone shouldn't be working. Unless… unlesss…

"Someone knocked out communications in the city?" She was thinking out loud now, racking her brain to try and come up with a possible suspect for such a crime. The Clock King was capable of such a thing, sure, but why would he take out a network that also empowered him? That wouldn't make any sense. Or maybe there was a new threat, someone she didn't yet know about, wreaking havoc on Starling for kicks and giggles.

"Or maybe I've just got a really overactive imagination. It could be nothing. Maybe I just need a new phone." She grumbled to her IV stand, staring at her phone in dismay. "What the hell, can't hurt to try." She muttered, pulling up Oliver's contact info and pressing the 'CALL' button. Her phone flashed to a white screen for a moment and then a small dialogue box popped up, informing her she had no network reception. "Of course not." Felicity sighed, returning the phone to her purse once more and continuing down the alley.

The parking spots the team usually used were all empty and with a disappointed groan, Felicity realized that it was likely her car was still parked at the restaurant she had been to with Oliver. After all, she couldn't remember anything after the restaurant to this point, so it was unlikely she had been driving her car anywhere.

Felicity felt torn. She could head for the restaurant and hope that her car was still parked there, or she could go home to her apartment, or to Oliver's family's mansion, or to the hospital to have her IV removed. She wasn't sure how she'd explain where the IV had come from but if she was being honest with herself, she didn't care what she had to say. She wanted the IV out of her. Pronto.

Hospital it was.

She continued out of the alley and to the street, her eyes widening as she took in abandoned vehicles and even more trash and debris in the street. A telephone pole nearby had fallen down and crushed one car parked beneath it while blockading the street. As she looked at the scene in dismay, Felicity spotted a splayed hand peeking from around the corner of a nearby building.

Realizing the owner of the hand must clearly be injured or trapped, she hurried across the street, forced to carry her IV stand over the rubbish strewn about. As she drew nearer to the corner though, she felt her stomach lurch uneasily and she had to double over to wretch (though there was nothing in her stomach  _to_ wretch). Because the hand didn't belong to a person in trouble; it was just a mangled stump. It looked as though it had been ripped off of its owner's body, and judging by the blood trail, the victim had stumbled away after losing their appendage. And though her stomach would very much have appreciated it if she didn't stare, Felicity couldn't help but gawp at the stump in horror, torn between wanting to scream and wondering if she was being punked.

But being punked was for celebrities and big wigs and rich people like her billionaire boss that she had sort of gone on a date with. Felicity wasn't sure how the life of the rich and famous worked but she was fairly certain one incomplete date with a billionaire on the verge of losing his fortune didn't merit being surprised with pranks by a TV show, so the whole 'being punked' option seemed pretty remote. So if she wasn't being punked, that left one option.

Horror it was.

Felicity stumbled backwards, away from the stump of a hand, leaning heavily against the building for support as she tried to steady herself. Her breathing had accelerated and she was dangerously close to hyperventilating when she heard the shuffle of feet coming from somewhere nearby. Still too disturbed to attempt to speak, she sat down (well away from the hand and the blood trail) and hugged her knees to her chest, trying to breathe deeply as she listened to the footsteps. When her breathing felt steady enough, she looked around for the person she could hear walking towards her.

Her eyes landed on a man in a black zip up hoodie with the hood drawn up over his face and dark jean pants. She couldn't see his face to know if he was someone she was acquainted with but judging from his body type, he was not Oliver. Or John. Or Roy. Still, he was the first living soul she'd seen since waking up and given the scare she'd just had, she would take what she could get.

Rising onto her unsteady feet, she clutched her IV stand tight and raised a hand in his direction to flag him down, watching as he seemed to catch sight of her and started to move towards her.

"S-Sir, do you know what happened here? Has anyone called the police? I'm sure this sounds really silly but I'm looking for my friends I-… I had an accident and I think I must have been unconscious for a while or something because-" she paused, hesitating when he didn't say anything but shuffled towards her faster. Alarm bells started going off in her head and when he reached the middle of the street, the sun hit him and Felicity felt her blood go cold.

The man's entire lower jaw skin was missing, revealing the whites of his teeth all the way down to where they joined with his jaw. Shaking like a leaf, she held out her hands in front of her, pleading with him to stop.

"Please, just leave me alone. D-Don't… Don't come any closer!" She warned, fumbling with her purse and withdrawing a can of mace – a gift from Oliver after she'd been abducted "one too many times for his liking". Holding it before her she tried to make herself seem big, the way John had told her to. "I will spray you if you take another step!" She warned with finality but if he heard her, he didn't show it. Jamming down the lever, she let loose a solid stream, catching the man square in the face.

And he didn't so much as hesitate in his approach.

Dropping the can, Felicity backed away from him and the pungent mace in the air, back towards the severed hand, brandishing her IV stand before her as a weapon. It wasn't going to do her much good, given that it was still attached to her, but it was all she had. Beside her fists but again,  _IV_. She couldn't very well come out swinging with that still stuck in her. 

_Stupid pointy objects._

The man's chest collided with the end of the stand and she jumped, mentally yelling at herself for having lost focus at such an inopportune moment as this. The man was reaching for her over the IV stand, his mouth opening and closing as he attempted to get her. The force of the collision threw Felicity against the side of the building, struggling weakly against the seemingly possessed man. She kicked at him, connecting with his groin to no effect. Throwing her weight to the side, she managed to pull herself free of him and dodge behind him, but he followed her, lumbering along with arms outstretched, his teeth clacking on empty air.

Unable to think of a better course of action, Felicity drew the IV stand up and swung it at his head, succeeding in making him stagger back a few steps but by no means putting an end to the onslaught.

"What the heck is wrong with you?!" She breathed, drawing up the IV stand and swinging it again, this time succeeding in knocking the man over. Panting heavily now, she brought the base of the stand down on his head as he moved to get up, then delivered two solid blows to his ribs but the man kept coming.

"You should have broken ribs, a broken nose, and probably a punctured lung." She gasped between breaths, clutching her side as the man rose again and stumbled towards her. "H-How are you still moving?!"

Felicity was tired. Just walking was an effort, let alone fighting a guy that easily had fifty pounds on her and was apparently built to withstand physical pain.  As he came towards her again she couldn't find the energy to lift the IV stand for another swing and instead shuffled away from him, further down the street. But she was losing ground; as tired she was and as slow as she was moving, he was showing no signs of slowing, moving at a constant, lumbering walk behind her and gaining quickly.

As she reached a battered looking apartment stoop, she pounded on the door, praying someone would let her in before the jawless man reached her. Her eyes stayed on him, noting in fear that he had two missing fingers on one of his outstretched hands and that the part of his hoodie covering his abdomen was dark with what she suspected were probably blood stains.

Definitely not good. In fact, it was definitely the  _opposite_  of good – this was like, horror movie levels of bad.

"Anyone! Please, help me!" She yelled, bringing her fist down on the door with all the force she could muster. "Help me!" Her eyes swung back to the man staggering towards her. He was only five feet away and she knew, she wouldn't provide much resistance once he reached her. Curling herself into a ball, she clutched the IV stand out before her as a weak last-ditch defense, and closed her eyes.

But instead of the sound of his clacking teeth finding purchase on her skin, Felicity heard a foreign sound that made her eyes open wide.

Before her, the jawless man had slumped to the ground and a familiar figure was pulling a very large kitchen knife out from the dead man's eye socket. Felicity might have cringed at the brutality of the murder, or at the sight of the dead man's blood pooling on the steps and seeping into her socks, but she was far too horrified at the sight of the familiar face before her brandishing a blood stained blade to pay attention. Looking from the corpse beside her, to her murderous savior, and then back again, Felicity felt the weight of the last hour finally hit her and without a word of thanks or warning, everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Three days earlier..._ **

 

"I'm sorry Mister Queen but as I have already explained to you it is simply not possible."

"And as I have already asked you, what would it take to make it _become_ possible?!" Oliver ground out between clenched teeth, his hands in fists at his sides as he gave the doctor an unwavering, intense stare. The man sighed and started to walk away, prompting Oliver to follow after him with long, easy strides.

"Mister Queen, your friend's brain swelling hasn't gone down. Taking her out of the medically induced coma could kill her, or lead to permanent brain damage."

"I just want to transport her to my family's home. She'll be cared for there."

"It's not an option."

The man was still walking away when Oliver threw him against a wall, all pretense gone, along with whatever shreds of patience Oliver Queen had been clinging to.

"I am going to say this once. _She is not staying here_. So organize a medical transfer team to transport her from this hospital to the Queen family home. _Do I make myself clear_?" Oliver asked. The doctor stared at him with wide eyes for a moment before swallowing once and then nodding his head.

Oliver released his hold on the man, letting him slide off the wall and back onto his feet. As the doctor collected himself Oliver stared him down, just to be certain that the message had been driven home.

"I will have one of my associates oversee the transfer and act as security." He said coldly and the doctor cleared his throat once before nodding. Satisfied, Oliver turned on his heel and marched back down the hallway to Felicity's room, where Roy stood leaning in the doorway.

"Way to play it cool." He remarked with a smirk and Oliver paused long enough to shoot his protégé a warning look before he moved into the hospital room, his eyes going instantly to Felicity.

"I need you to stay here and watch her. They're going to move her to the mansion today. I want you to oversee the move and then stay there; I'm telling Sara to bring everyone there." Oliver explained as he seated himself in the chair at Felicity's bedside, his hands taking her left hand in his right away.

Sara had returned to Starling when news of Zytle's altered Vertigo had reached her and already, she was proving useful to have around; Oliver had been trying to up his number of patrols to try and figure out how Zytle was distributing the new Vertigo. But circumstances being what they were, he was having a difficult time leaving Felicity's bedside long enough to dig up much information. At the moment, she was supposed to be convincing Laurel and Quentin Lance to come to the Queen mansion to hole up until the worst was over.

"Hey come on, I can help you out there. You need me. Things are getting….grim." Roy argued and Oliver lifted his gaze from Felicity long enough to give Roy a cold stare.

"They are grim. That's why I need you here, with her. Felicity's our best shot at tracking down Zytle and stopping this thing before it spreads anymore than it already has. I need you to protect her. I'm calling Diggle too; I want both of you with her."

Silence lapsed between them as Roy shifted in the doorway for a moment before taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly.

"Alright. I'm on it."

"Her doctor is arranging things. You can speak to him for details." Oliver advised, watching as Roy stepped into the hall, presumably to track down Felicity's doctor. 

"And Roy?" Oliver called, prompting the young man to back up into view again, peering at his mentor questioningly from the doorway.

"Yeah?"

"Don't….don't let anything happen to her." Oliver pleaded softly and Roy's face flickered from surprise to a serious, determined look of understanding.

"I won't." He promised with a nod and then, with one last look at his teammates, he ducked back into the hallway.

Turning his gaze back to Felicity, Oliver felt the by now familiar weight of his worry strike him full force. The gash on her forehead where she'd struck it in the blast was fading as it healed but still prominent, the mark of the trauma that had led to her being here, in this place. _In a coma_. With brain swelling that could potentially lead to long-term brain damage. _Because of him._

"I know they still have you in this medically induced coma, Felicity, but if you can hear me I… I really need you to wake up now. Please." He begged, his fingers brushing over her cheek gently as he swept a tendril of blonde hair behind her ear.

 _How was he supposed to leave her_?

The idea of letting anyone – even Roy and Diggle – take responsibility for protecting her made his stomach twist uneasily. It had been a little over a week since their date had been cut short by the explosion and in that time, he'd hardly dared to leave her side. It was truly only the magnitude of the chaos raging outside that had been able to drag him away from her.

Werner Zytle – the man, they had learned, who was responsible for blowing up the restaurant – had altered the Vertigo drug. Whatever he'd done to it, the new drug had contained a pathogenic element of some sort that was proving extremely contagious.

Oliver was no genius but if his understanding was correct, Zytle had sought to make the Vertigo addiction contagious, so that even non-drug users could become infected with the addiction. Instead, the only thing spreading was not an addiction, but a frenzied state of being. The streets were filled with people burning up with fevers that left them raging and posing a danger to everyone both infected and healthy.

Thus Oliver's demand that Felicity be moved out of the city hospital and into the more easily fortified and defended Queen home, at least until the SCPD had a better grip on the situation. She'd be safer, and he would be able to be with her; it was win-win. And it would mean he wouldn't have to spend any more time in the hospital – also a win.

In the last week, he'd practically lived at her bedside. The low hum of the machines had become his lullaby, the persistent beeping of the monitors had become his means of monitoring the passage of time. Despite the rage that burned in his veins, demanding retribution for Felicity's injuries, he had not been able to tear himself away from her bedside for more than short spurts, and only when someone else – Diggle or Roy or Sara – had been present to watch her in his absence.

"Hey Digg, I need you to come to the hospital. I'm having Felicity transported to the mansion and I need you and Roy to oversee… Just ah… give me a call when you're here." Oliver said, his voice strained as he left the message for his friend. Oliver still wasn't great at asking for help but for Felicity's sake, he would have done anything. He'd failed her already in allowing her to be hurt; he wasn't about to fail her again and leave her unprotected.

Leaning his head so that his forehead rested on the cool skin of her hand, he mentally pleaded with her to wake up, desperate to hear one of her trademark babbling blunders or the sound of his name rolling off her lips.

"I need you, Felicity." He whispered softly. "Please come back. I lo-"

"Oliver!" Roy's voice preceded his appearance by a few seconds and when he came skidding into view, Oliver knew something was very, _very_ wrong. "Oliver, you gotta get out here. An ambulance just brought in a bunch of Vertigo patients and they're going _nuts_. The doctors need our help." Roy explained, turning to sprint down the hall, only to be brought up short by Oliver's hand on his shoulder.

"Not you." Oliver directed firmly. "Stay with Felicity."

"But Oliver-"

"I said stay with Felicity." Oliver growled and Roy complied grudgingly, moving back into the room. Oliver drew the door partly closed, giving Roy a final stare. "Do not leave her side and do not let anyone through this door until I come back."

With a final glance at Felicity's motionless form, he darted down the hallways, following the sounds of screams and yelling to lead him to the emergency room entry bay.

A pair of paramedics were fighting to restrain one young woman on a gurney while a doctor and a nurse fought to subdue another patient, a man. A third patient was trying to attack the receptionist over the counter and a fourth and fifth were harrying the people in the waiting room. Even as Oliver moved to help the doctor and nurse, who were nearest to him, he saw the Vertigo sufferer bite down sharply on the doctor's exposed wrist, drawing blood.

With expert ease, Oliver stepped quickly behind the patient and slipped his arm beneath the man's jaw, drawing his grip tight over the man's neck and lugging him backward towards a waiting gurney that had been kicked aside in the struggle. Throwing him down onto it, Oliver held him down with no small amount of struggle as the nurse quickly did up the restraints, locking the man into place.

It took another ten minutes to round up the remaining four patients but in that short timeframe, the infected Vertigo patients managed to do quite a bit of damage. Besides the doctor's bite to the wrist, the receptionist's face had been clawed up, the nurse had nearly gotten her eye gouged out and two of the people in the waiting room and one paramedic had suffered bites, while another three bystanders had gotten scratched up.

No wonder the city was in a panic, when average people were losing their minds and attacking their fellow citizens.

"Thank you, Mister Queen." The doctor exhaled as the last of the patients was wheeled up to the Intensive Care Unit. It was only then that Oliver realized the doctor he'd seen get bitten was Felicity's doctor. Straightening his tie, Oliver gave the man a wan smile.

"If you can get my friend safely transferred, you can consider us even." He offered and the doctor gave a huff of laughter and a nod as he leaned heavily on the receptionist's desk, looking suddenly ragged and weary. Somewhere, distantly, warning bells were going off in Oliver's head.

"Doctor Jameson?" Oliver said warily, noting the thin sheen of sweat and flushed cheeks that he hadn't been displaying only a few minutes earlier. The doctor lifted his eyes to meet Oliver's gaze and he could see that the doctor's eyes were bloodshot, his pupils dilated.

And suddenly, a great many things happened at once. The doctor's eyes rolled and he collapsed, his body shaking violently as a seizure ripped through him. Oliver called out for help and one of the paramedics rushed to the fallen doctor's side, yelling for the receptionist to page another doctor. The second paramedic knelt, trying to assist his partner, when suddenly the doctor's body went limp. One paramedic leaned her head over the doctor's body, her fingers feeling knowingly for a pulse.

Oliver's spine tingled uneasily and he knew, before the paramedic lifted her gaze to shake her head in sorrow, that she would find no pulse. Clutching the edge of the receptionist's desk, Oliver could feel the sense of unease growing stronger but like a car accident on the highway, he couldn't help but look.

Perhaps sixty seconds had passed and someone had just brought a gurney out. The paramedics were preparing to lift the doctor's body up onto it when suddenly the man's hands twitched. And for all of Oliver's training and practice at fighting for survival, he couldn't seem to bring himself to move, his blood gone suddenly cold as the doctor lurched up onto his feet, opening his mouth and snapping his teeth at the paramedics.

With a jolt, Oliver snapped out of his dazed state and rammed his shoulder into the doctor's back, sending the man sprawling to the floor. Oliver followed after him, putting a knee between the man's shoulder blades to keep him down as he shouted for someone to help. But as he watched, others began to fall to the floor as seizures struck them and it was then that the sickening feeling Oliver had had became a coherent thought.

Vertigo wasn't just being spread by Zytle now and it was contagious, but not the way a cold or the flu was contagious. Vertigo was being spread through bites and scratches from the infected. And Oliver was in a room full of people that had just been bitten and scratched.

When the first paramedic fell down and began to seize, Oliver realized no healthy hospital personnel remained in the room. No help was coming in time to stop the nearly one dozen of newly infected Vertigo sufferers from wreaking havoc.

"Get out of here! Go, _leave_!" Oliver shouted to the few remaining healthy people who had been in the waiting room, awaiting treatment. They didn't need to be told twice and fled quickly. When they were safely out of the room, Oliver jumped off of the doctor's struggling figure and darted out of the room, avoiding the infected paramedic and the receptionist too.

Sprinting through the double doors that led to the rest of the hospital, Oliver looked around for something to barricade the doors with, settling for an IV stand that was resting by an empty wheelchair in the corner. Slipping the bar between the handles of the double doors, he said a silent prayer that the doors would hold and ran for the nurse's station near Felicity's room. When he got there though, he saw it was too late.

The Vertigo sufferers that had been wheeled up to the ICU had been accompanied by the nurse that had been scratched across her eye and already, the damage was being done. Oliver could see multiple figures lying on the floor, some already overcome by the seizures and some remaining still. They wouldn't stay still for long though.

" _Roy_!" He shouted as he raced for Felicity's room, praying that he hadn't lost her, or his protégé, in the short time he'd been gone. As he watched, Felicity's door cracked open and Roy's eye peeked out and then threw the door open to admit Oliver as he ran inside, the door closing promptly behind him as Roy leaned against it heavily.

"What the hell is going on out there?!" Roy demanded as Oliver took a deep breath, his eyes scanning the room and mercifully, finding nothing amiss.

"No one's been in here since I left, have they?" Oliver asked and Roy stared at him in confusion, shaking his head.

"No one but Felicity and I."

"Good."

"Oliver, what the hell is happening? I heard a bunch of screaming and when I peeked out the door-"

"You opened the door?" Oliver roared and Roy cringed but rose his chin up defiantly.

"People were in trouble, I wanted to help!"

"Roy, this is very important; did you go out there? Did you get scratched or bitten or interact with any of the Vertigo patients in any way?" Oliver asked, his eyes running over the young man's face and hands, looking for scrapes or teeth marks.

"No, I didn't go, okay? I was going to but then one of them came at the door and I was afraid to leave Felicity…." Roy trailed off with a shrug, clearly embarrassed that he'd been afraid.

"Thank god." Oliver exhaled, burying his face in his hands.

"Oliver, _what is going on_?" Roy demanded and he could hear the exasperation in the younger man's voice.

"The Vertigo it's… it's being passed by bites and scratches. They brought in some patients to the ER but they lost it and started attacking the staff. One of the doctors got bit and in less than fifteen minutes he collapsed and had a seizure and…and…" Oliver trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief.

"And what? Oliver, you're freaking me out!" Roy hissed.

" _He died_. Roy, he had no pulse. He was down for the count, _out_. And then he got back up and just started attacking people." Oliver explained.

"People don't just come back from the dead, Oliver." Roy tried to reason but Oliver could only shake his head as he ran his hands through his hair nervously.

"This one did." He exhaled,  moving to Felicity's side and staring at the assortment of tubes and monitors she was hooked up to. "We have to get out of here, Roy. We need to get _her_ out of here. Now."

\-----

Their mad dash from the hospital had yielded more close calls than Oliver cared to consider. Though he had resisted the idea of letting Felicity out of his arms for a second, Roy's reasoning that Oliver was the more experienced fighter had eventually won out. Oliver had cleared a path through the infected and to the staircase, where he and Roy, with Felicity in tow, had quickly scrambled down to the basement parking garage.

"Now what. You wanna put her on the back of a friggin motorcycle?" Roy hissed in a low voice and Oliver ground his teeth in anger, having forgotten that they'd driven their bikes and not the team van to the hospital.

"Start trying the doors on all of the cars. If you find one that's open, look for keys." Oliver directed, grabbing Felicity out of Roy's hands.

"Are you serious?" Roy asked in surprise and Oliver's answering glare left little room for doubt. "Okay, okay! I'm on it." Roy held up his hands in surrender, slipping out of the stairwell and moving off through the dark parking garage. Oliver counted time by watching Felicity's chest rise and fall, suddenly thankful that she wasn't on a ventilator – that would have made an escape in this situation damn near impossible. As it was, the spare bags of fluids and medicine they'd been able to find were stuffed in the blanket they had wrapped her up in and he was already worrying how they were going to keep her alive without a doctor or _someone_ to monitor her when his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an engine roaring to life.

In short order, Roy was pulling a large SUV up in front of the stairwell exit and Oliver didn't waste time. As Roy hopped out and threw the back door open, Oliver carried Felicity into the car, slamming the door closed behind him.

"Drive."

Not needing to be told twice, Roy jumped back in the driver's seat and in a peel of tires on asphalt, they were hurtling out of the parking garage and out into the city beyond. But as they reached street level, Roy was quickly taking his foot off of the gas pedal.

"Holy shit." He muttered, staring around in a state of shock. An overturned ambulance lay on its side outside of the ER bay and there were more of the Vertigo infected in various states of frenzy. "What the hell happened?"

"It's mutating and fast." Oliver growled as he stared at the ambulance, part of him itching to go see if someone was trapped inside and in need of help. It was the weight of Felicity in his arms that kept him firmly in place inside the SUV. "Drive, Roy." He directed and the young man turned to protest, only to stop short as Oliver gave one firm shake of his head.

"We can't do anything for them without endangering her." He reasoned, motioning towards Felicity. "And we need her to help us stop this." Roy set his jaw and nodded, clearly not liking it but not about to argue. With a deft turn of the wheel, he navigated the vehicle away from the ambulance and started driving.

Oliver focused on Felicity, watching her breathe and occasionally checking her pulse with his fingers, fearful that her heart might stop beating at any moment. The doctor had said moving her could pose a risk; how much more risky must it be that they were moving her now, without medical supervision or monitors, in a jolting, lurching SUV?

He couldn't dwell on it; leaving her in the hospital hadn't been an option when he'd first suggested the move and it certainly hadn't been an option after what they'd witnessed at the hospital. He just had to hope she woke up before they ran out of medicine to keep the swelling in her brain down. If not…

He couldn't think about that. Not now. She would wake up. She had to.

Shifting her body so that her head was nestled against his left shoulder and chest, he carefully rearranged the blanket they'd wrapped her in, being sure to keep her covered as best he could. She seemed so cold to the touch; he wanted to wrap her in his embrace and not let go until her cheeks were flushed and every bit of her, from her nose and toes to her fingertips, were warm once more.

A sudden vibration had him nearly jumping out of his skin until he recalled the phone in his pocket and whipping out the device quickly, he saw John Diggle's name flash across the caller ID.

 _Shit_. He'd forgotten to tell Diggle not to go to the hospital after all. _Oh god_.

"Diggle!" He exclaimed as he answered the phone, afraid of what he would hear on the other end of the line. The screaming was expected; what was not expected was the type of screaming.

That was a baby screaming in the background.

"Oliver!" He heard Diggle shout back on the other end of the line. "Where are you?"

"We're driving, I don't know, we grabbed Felicity and left. Where are you?!" He asked, his heart fluttering with anxiety as he awaited the answer.

"I'm at the hospital, I'm with Lyla." _Lyla_ ; he hadn't even thought about her in all the panic and confusion. "Oliver, she went into labor."

"Are you sure?" Oliver asked anxiously, which really, was a ridiculous question. He could hear the baby in the background for crying out loud. But Lyla had had a false alarm the same night that Felicity had been hospitalized. Maybe this was another false alarm.

"Definitely not a false alarm, man. It's a girl. We're still in the labor and delivery room." Diggle explained and Oliver felt his heart drop to his feet.

Diggle and Lyla and their newborn baby were still back in that hell hole.

"Stay there. We will come for you." Oliver instructed and he heard a nervous chuckle on the other end of the phone.

"You get us out of here and you're her godfather, you hear me?" Diggle teased, though his voice was pinched with worry.

"Where are you? Describe the layout as best as you can." Oliver instructed.

"We're on the third floor, northeast corner. Fourth door from the stairwell."

"We'll be there as soon as we can. Don't open the door for anyone – it's spreading through direct contact, Digg. Bites and scratches." Oliver explained.

" Got it." Diggle responded and for a moment, there was silence between the two except for the sound of the squalling infant in the background. "Oliver,-" Diggle began but Oliver cut him off.

"I know. We'll be there. I promise." He vowed, hesitating for a moment before he clicked the "END CALL" button on his phone.

"I take it we're making a pit stop?" Roy asked, making Oliver jump. He'd almost forgotten that all the while he'd been talking, Roy had been driving them further from their destination. Looking around wildly, he realized where Roy had taken them.

"Stop the car."

"No way!" Roy protested, glancing in the rearview mirror at them. "Maybe you were too distracted on the phone to notice, but there was a pack of infected people in the street back there; I stop this thing and we're Vertigo chow." He scoffed, refocusing on the road, congested with traffic that had ceased to obey the traffic laws.

"Roy, we have to go back to the hospital. Diggle is there with Lyla. She went into labor." He explained hurriedly and he saw Roy's eyes widen in surprise.

"We have to drop her off first." Roy countered and Oliver blanched, looking down at Felicity and clutching her to him more tightly.

"We are not leaving her here."

"Oliver we'll come back for her but be real – how much good is it going to do her to get bounced around in a car all the way back to the hospital? The doctors said moving her was a risk. We need to make sure she's stable and leave her where she'll be safe. We'll come back for her, I promise. But we can't take her back there with us. It's going to take both of us to get through that hospital and I doubt you want to leave her alone and unprotected in a car while we go rescue Diggle and Lyla."

 _No. Not again._ He couldn't leave her alone. If anything happened to her… He'd never forgive himself. But Roy made a good point. Bringing her back with them was a risk too; possibly a much greater one.

"The Foundry is the safest place for her right now." Roy said quietly, bringing the car to a halt outside the employee entrance of Verdant. Gritting his teeth, Oliver nodded. He had to do it, even if it was going to kill him to leave her. She would want him to save Diggle and Lyla and the baby, he knew she would. But that didn't make it any easier to leave her behind.

"Lead the way." He growled to Roy, who quickly jumped from the driver's seat to get the door for Oliver. They moved quickly into the club and for once, Oliver was glad the place was empty. In short order, they were clattering down the Foundry steps, Roy in the lead and Oliver in the rear, Felicity cradled against his chest.

"Clear off that table." He directed and in a sweep of his arm, Roy gracelessly knocked the trays of arrow heads to the floor, grinning sheepishly as Oliver made a disapproving sound.

"Hey, you wanted it clear; it's clear." Roy defended himself but Oliver was past caring already. As gently as he could, Oliver laid Felicity out on the table, barking orders to Roy to grab what medical supplies the Foundry contained. In short order, they had her IV bags strung up to an IV stand, and her catheter resting on the table beside her.

Staring at her, so vulnerable and exposed, Oliver felt his resolve to leave her crumbling. As if sensing Oliver's thoughts, Roy put a hand on his shoulder, shaking him from his brooding.

"We gotta go." He advised and Oliver nodded, swallowing once to clear his throat. Roy was already dressed in his Arsenal gear, his quiver on his back and his bow in his hands.

"Go get the car ready." Oliver advised. "I'll be there in a minute."

"Oliver-"

"Go. I will be there but _I need a minute_." He directed tersely. "Besides, you're going to need a minute to start the car anyway. Don't think I didn't notice that you hotwired it." Oliver mused, trying to infuse a teasing tone into his voice. Glancing from Oliver to Felicity and back again, Roy gave a stiff nod and then set off up the Foundry steps and out of sight. Going to one corner, Oliver grabbed up a generator and plugged one of the lamps into it, intent that there should always be a light on, even if the power failed.

Felicity was not the kind of girl that ought to be left dwelling in darkness.

"I will be back for you. I promise." He whispered as he touched her forehead gently, his fingers skimming along her hairline. "I'm going to get Diggle. And Lyla. And the baby. And then we're going to come back for you. You hear me?" He whispered, staring at her motionless form in desperation. He knew two things; he would do whatever it took to save his friends, his family. And two…

"I love you."

Lowering his face to hers, his lips pressed against her forehead in a tender parting kiss. And as he grabbed up the gym bag of his Arrow gear, he felt like something inside of him was fracturing. Closing the Foundry door firmly behind him, he squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. He couldn't be Oliver Queen right now.

He had to be The Arrow.  


	3. Chapter 3

When Felicity awoke, she was in a dark room she didn't recognize. As her eyes swept the room, she took in little details of the place - it was simply furnished and the wallpaper was beginning to peel, a thought that struck her dimly as she realized she was lying on a bed that was most decidedly not her own. Her next realization came as she attempted to sit up, only to find her right wrist handcuffed to the headboard.

 _What the frack_?!

On the one hand, she no longer seemed to have her IV still in her. And while Felicity could definitely appreciate being free of that, she wasn't so much a fan of trading the IV for handcuffs.

"Not in this context at least." She muttered to herself in a low voice.

"I was wondering when you'd wake up." A voice from the opposite side of the room made her lurch, brought up short once more by the handcuffs. Blinking the sleep away, Felicity stared at the doorway, where a familiar figure lingered.

"Sorry about the handcuffs but I had to make sure you weren't infected." The low voice murmured as the figure strode across the room and crouched beside the bed to stare at Felicity intently. "The way you collapsed and all, I thought you might be but if you were, you'd have turned by now, it's been over an hour."

"C-Captain Lance?" She managed, shaking her head as she tried to focus. This was wrong. All wrong. There was no way this was really happening. Because it was not possible that _Quentin Lance_ had been the person she'd watched stab a man through the eye earlier.

No. Totally not possible. If she weren't handcuffed, she would have pinched herself to make sure this wasn't just a continuation of her earlier nightmare. Because that was plainly what this was. A nightmare. Definitely not reality. And certainly not _her_ reality.

"Not much to be a 'Captain' of, these days." He responded casually, pulling a key from his breast pocket. Though still in his police uniform, the Captain had a look of dishevelment to him that was distinctly out of character and did nothing to make Felicity feel at ease. As he fitted the key to her cuffs and her restraints fell away, Felicity practically fell out of the bed in an effort to get away from the man.

"Stay away from me." She warned, her voice quavering as she held her hands, balled into fists, at her sides. Staring at her in surprise, Quentin Lance stood up, crossing his arms and fixing her with an almost parental look of disapproving.

"Really, Miss Smoak?" He asked and she gaped at him like a fish out of water, both terrified and confused and indignant because _she had seen him murder someone!_ Shock and repulsion were totally appropriate responses to that, at least in her book.

"Yes, _really_. Captain, I saw you _murder_ that man down there! I am _not_ letting you anywhere near me. I can practically smell the wrongful death lawsuit brewing. Tell me, can you say 'manslaughter'?" She menaced, lifting one pointed finger in warning. Scoffing, the Captain shook his head at her and stared at her all the harder.

"First of all, _lower your voice_." He hissed, glancing about nervously. "Second of all - you think I killed that man? Where have you been, _Mars_? He was _infected_." The last word was hissed in emphasis; as if that small fact was the life vest the Captain was clinging to for sanity.

"I-Infected? _With what_?" Felicity stammered out, her own curiosity getting the better of her rational mind for the moment.

"Are you serious?" Lance was suddenly staring at her with newfound uncertainty and Felicity had no idea what to make of it. Her confusion and lack of knowledge must have shown with absolute transparency though, because in short order Captain Lance was shaking his head and laughing lowly.

"So you're telling me that you have no idea what's been going on here the last week and a half?" The Captain pressed and Felicity shook her head, staring at him with her mouth agape from the other side of the room. Heaving a heavy sigh, Lance walked around the bed and towards Felicity, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Felicity couldn't help but shrink away from him as the Captain came near to her – a fact which he plainly noticed as he shot her a look with an arched brow and proceeded not to touch her, but to reach for the covered window which, she realized, she had her back to.

Drawing back the blanket that had been tacked up over the window, the Captain gestured out the window to the city below. Staring at him untrustingly for a moment, Felicity finally stirred and chanced a glance at the street. She'd intended only to look away from Lance for a second but the moment her eyes caught sight of the scene down below, she couldn't help but stare, one hand clasped over her mouth in horror.

Dozens of people shuffled about three floors down below, their clothes ragged and covered in bloodstains. Some of them were badly disfigured, just like the man on the street had been. Here and there people were missing limbs – not neatly amputated but jagged wounds that had clearly not been tended to. And despite their traumas, all of them moved about jerkily and purposelessly, seemingly unawares of their sometimes lethal injuries.

"W-What happened to them?" She choked out in a sob, looking back at Lance with tears in her eyes as her heart beat wildly with the fear overpowering her system.

"They were all infected with Vertigo." The Captain stated knowingly and Felicity's brows knitted into a frown and she shook her head.

"No, that can't be right… Vertigo… We- _The Arrow_ – got that off the streets. The Count is dead. And even if he weren't – Vertigo is a _drug_. People can't be… _be infected with it_." She rushed, her babbling returning to her as she rediscovered her voice.

"It wasn't the Count this time." The Captain growled, clearly getting worked up now. "It was someone else – does the name Zytle mean anything to you?" She shook her head and he sighed before continuing. "He messed with the formula, tried to make the drug addiction contagious and instead he got that-" he gestured to the street roughly, "-people collapsing, dead, only to get back up and start going berserk, attacking people on the street."

"T-That's not possible… it must just be a symptom… Dead people d-don't just come back to life." Felicity argued, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Miss Smoak, you see that man down there? Five feet to the right of the light pole, in the yellow t-shirt? See those blood stains? I shot him three times trying to get him to stand down. _Three_. Guy didn't even slow down. Have you ever seen a person take three bullets and keep coming?" The Captain asked her, his voice rising and falling with emotion.

"M-Maybe the drug is impeding their pain receptors-" she offered weakly and the Captain shook his head.

"No. Doctors at STAR Labs said it was complete and total system failure. Their hearts stopped beating, they experienced brain death and then they would come back. Maybe in one minutes, maybe in three, but they came back. And nothing you can do will stop them unless you destroy the brain."Lance exhaled, tapping his temple repeatedly to drive the point home.

"So you see, Miss Smoak, I didn't kill that man. He had already died. He was just a walking, biting, scratching host for the Vertigo disease." Lance finished with a huff and Felicity felt her legs trembling, suddenly weak as her mind replayed the scene of Quentin Lance, Police Captain and all around good guy, stabbing the infected man from earlier through the eye socket and clear through to the brain.

Nausea seemed the appropriate response.

"Knives are quiet but you have to get close and they can get messy, especially if they get stuck in a body. Guns are effective but the noise draws them. They react to noise and light too – that's why the windows are covered." He explained and Felicity gave a dazed nod, still not anywhere near having processed what all he was telling her. Even with the reality staring her in the face (and having nearly eaten her face earlier) it was too much to process.

"I know it's a lot to take in-"

"That's the understatement of the year." She responded back in a high pitched chirp, clearly still trying to let it all soak in. She'd decided to trust him – in part because of their history and in part because the memory of the infected man's teeth clacking on empty air as he tried to bite her was proof enough that the Captain was telling the truth. But trusting him and fully accepting his story were not the same thing and she needed time to really take everything in because wow. It was a lot.

So she decided to focus on something slightly less apocalyptic. Something that could maybe help her find out if her loved ones were alright. And help her find them.

"How long have we been without power?"She asked and he stared at her quizzically, apparently amused.

"What, you have some important hacking you need to catch up on?" He snorted and she shook her head, clasping her arms about her middle uncertainly.

"I just… I wondered. Is it just here? In Starling City, that is. Or is it more… _widespread_?" She asked, unable to help the flash of faces her mind summoned, faces of those she cared about that might be in danger this very moment, or dead, or even roaming the streets down below, infected and possibly lost forever. At least if they had power she could get word out to her loved ones outside the city.

"I don't know. Some government bigshots came in, tried to contain it but…" he trailed off with a sigh, clearly none too convinced that they had been successful.

 _Oh god_. What if it had reached far beyond the city? What if her mother was cowering beneath a diner counter as infected former patrons came crashing in? What if Barry's hospital room at STAR Labs in Central City had been overrun with the infected and he'd been attacked while lying defenseless in a coma? What about John? And Roy? And Sara?

 _Oliver_.

Her heart twisted painfully at the idea and it took all the strength she could muster to turn her mind away from the horrific image it had created of a bloodied and broken Oliver Queen stumbling about the streets of the very city he had fought to protect, now become the very sort of monster had had fought against. _No_.

"Does your cell phone work?" She asked suddenly, wondering if perhaps a different cell phone carrier's coverage might still be intact. Or perhaps cell coverage still worked, just in other parts of the city?

"You really have been out of the loop, haven't you?" The Captain mused, glancing her over and raising his brows with a sigh. "Miss Smoak, you mind telling me how _you_ wound up in the middle of the Glades, in one piece, with nothing but your hospital duds on?"

"These aren't hospital duds, they're just my comfy clothes." Felicity defended almost instantaneously and the Captain quirked a brow at her, prompting her to shake her head and start over. "Not the point, I know. I um... I don't actually know though. How I ended up in the Glades. Or with the IV which I'm assuming you saw because you know… it's gone and it wasn't before, so thanks for removing that." She rambled, clearing her throat as she steered herself back to the point. "It's all actually kind of just a great big _blank_." She finished, drawing out the end of the last word as she scrambled for explanation.

Which she was distinctly lacking. She actually really would have loved to have had an explanation to offer. Anything. Besides the truth which was basically….nothing.

"A blank?" The Captain repeated in disbelief and she nodded vigorously.

"Mhmm. I um I woke up in the Arrow's _ah_ … 'base of operations'. The Arrow Cave, if you will." She offered with a little flourish of her hand, prompting the Captain to snort in amusement. Fine. So maybe the name wasn't going to catch; Arrow Lair, perhaps? _So not the time_ , she mentally drew herself away from that train of thought. "I came outside and ran into y'know…jawless biting wonder guy there and then you saved me and here we are." She finished off lamely, offering a sheepish smile the Captain's way.

"So you don't remember a thing?" His disbelief was almost palpable but Felicity nodded solemnly in response just the same. " _When_ is the last thing that you _do_ remember?"

"Umm… I was at a restaurant on the 8th –of October. 2014." She hurried, realizing with a gulp that it might not be October – or more frighteningly, 2014 – any longer. "I…I think something happened though? An explosion or something? I just know one second I was there and then there was a loud sound and…and heat. Then everything's a blank until I woke up today." She offered weakly, clasping her hands before her uncertainly, her fingers playing with the plastic hospital band around her wrist which apparently, no one had thought to cut off of her when they took her from the hospital.

"Well, you're damn lucky, that's for sure." Lance murmured, drawing the blanket back into place over the window and staring at her with what Felicity could only assume was perhaps a paternal sense of obligation to protect her. "That herd there is usually four times that big but I drew most of them away when I went on a supply run. Got myself into a bit of a pickle and made a lot of noise… Drew a lot of the infected. Otherwise that street right there? You never would have made it ten feet."

Felicity felt a shiver run through her body; it must have been noticeable because Lance cleared his throat and beckoned her to follow him as he walked out of the bedroom and down a darkened hall. As she followed him into a living room, Felicity saw that all the windows were similarly covered. It did little to reassure her.

"It's the eighteenth of October. I think. I might be a day or two off. They kind of all start to blend together." The Captain leveled with her as he went into the kitchen and opened up a cabinet, drawing out two water bottles and offering her one of them, which she accepted gratefully and quickly began to drink from. The eighteenth. So she was missing… a week and a half of time? How was it possible that the city had fallen apart so quickly? Was it possible that they'd really lost all power and communication capabilities in that short a period?

"So the power situation?" Felicity prodded, not about to let him forget her earlier questioning.

"Power is the least of our concerns, Miss Smoak."

Felicity tilted her head to the side as she stared at Quentin Lance, a mixture of confusion and concern showing on her face. The MIT tech part of her brain was screaming out that she begged to differ and that the loss of power was pretty significant because _hello? TECHNOLOGY?!  -_ but her newly burgeoning survival instincts won out.

"Then what _is_ our concern?"

For a moment he stared at her, the water bottle in his hand held just shy of his lips as he regarded her with the utmost of seriousness. Then, he took a deep swig from his bottle and capped it, setting it down upon the kitchen counter.

"Well, we have enough supplies to last us two days. Maybe three. And that herd down there? They're between us and any chance we've got at finding more." He explained, prompting her to frown, her lips pursed as she considered their predicament.

"Are they fast? Could we outrun them, maybe?" She asked but before he answered she knew that it was hardly a solution. Felicity felt lightheaded and nauseous, her skin cold and clammy.

"You don't get it Miss Smoak. Whatever was in that Vertigo Zytle gave them? It mutated or jumped or spliced or whatever you geniuses want to call it. The point is one bite, one _scratch_ from an infected person? That's enough to infect a healthy host. So all it takes is a teeny tiny cut from one of those things and you're as good as dead. If you're lucky you get maybe thirty minutes. Most people have maybe ten before they drop dead and then reanimate." The Captain explained, crossing his arms in front of him as he stared pointedly at her. "You still think going outside sounds like a good plan?" He asked.

Shaking her head in a silent, grudging 'no' motion, she heard him give a low chuckle.

"I didn't think so. Power still seem like a top priority?" He questioned but this time, Felicity didn't tell him what he was expecting to hear.

"Actually, it does." She murmured, jutting her chin out before her as she squared her shoulders. "We need to see if there are other people nearby. Maybe we could get word out to them, come up with a plan. _Something_."

"You're serious? …What do you think you can possibly do? Even if _you_ get power, no one else will have any. Take a look around, Miss Smoak - the city's dark! Who are you going to send out an SOS to?!" He asked, watching in bemusement as Felicity suddenly began to flit about the apartment, looking for supplies.

"Starling City draws most of its power from coal powered plants, like most of the country. But there are some parts of the city that get solar and wind power. It's possible some parts of the city still have functioning communications. So if we ping devices in those areas, it's possible we'll reach someone healthy out there who has power and could come help us." She rambled, her own sense of hope getting the best of her and turning into full fledged excitement.

 _The Queen mansion had some solar power capabilities_. _And generators in spades._ _She could contact Oliver._

If he was there. Which was a big 'if'. And then there was the whole matter of 'if he was alive', but she was adamantly refusing to let her mind wander down that rabbit hole. It would do none of them any good if she fell to pieces. She'd start her search for him at the Queen family mansion and if she didn't reach him there, she'd try Queen Consolidated next. But she _would_ find him.

"That's great but how are we supposed to know which areas have solar panels? And how does that help us – that stuff isn't exactly cheap and in case you hadn't noticed, you and I? We're trapped in the Glades, which isn't exactly known for being the Mecca of high priced technology." Lance reminded her and Felicity, having finally found her purse where Lance had set it aside, clutched her tablet to her chest victoriously.

"It just so happens that, as part of a QC project to help rebuild the Glades after the Undertaking, several apartment complexes were outfitted with free solar panels to help reduce cost of living for the tenants." Felicity explained as she darted across the room, her excitement growing. "And one of those buildings is right _there_." She said with emphasis as she drew back the blanket over the living room window and pointed at the building across the way.

The Captain stared at her uncomprehendingly and raised his brows, clearly not taking her meaning and Felicity huffed a sigh as she dropped the blanket and stepped closer to him to explain.

"They have power. If you can get me and my trusty little microprocessor friend here to that building, I should be able to make contact with _someone_."

"Care to elaborate on who this 'someone' might be or were you just going to risk your life - and mine, I might add - on the hope that some stranger is feeling charitable enough to come rescue two absolute strangers from a herd of the infected?" The Captain dogged her and she frowned at him, unsure if she should tell him who she truly had in mind. But then again, would anyone less than the Arrow be motivation enough to persuade the Captain to support her plan? She doubted it.

"The Arrow." Felicity offered with a simple shrug, swallowing the smirk that the Captain's gawking response elicited.

If he was alive, he'd come for her. If she trusted in nothing else, Felicity Smoak knew she could trust in Oliver Queen. And fortunately for her, Oliver and the Arrow were one and the same, despite his attempts to keep them two separate entities.

\----------

His vision was blurry as he blinked repeatedly, trying to make sense of the shapes around him in the semi-darkness. He was dimly aware of Roy's voice, calling to him seemingly from afar and as he continued to blink, the words took on some semblance of meaning.

"Oliver? Oliver, _get up_! I can't hold them off much longer!"

His protégé's voice came not from their usual coms (the power outages had rendered most if not all of their tech useless without Felicity to jerry-rig fixes) but instead the voice came from a few feet to his right. As Oliver turned his head (slowly, for it felt as if his head weighed a thousand pounds) he saw Roy in his Arsenal gear, drawing an arrow and firing it rapidly before grabbing up a piece of metal debris which he used to bludgeon one man in the head, knocking him to the ground long enough for Roy to pull a knife and finish him off.

"Oliver!" Roy demanded again and this time Oliver responded, scrambling unsteadily to his feet, his head ringing from having cracked his head on the hard tile floor after taking a hard tumble while fighting one of the infected. He didn't think he had a concussion but probably darn close - he'd really hit the floor hard.

"I'm up!" Oliver growled back, plucking an arrow from one of the corpses on the floor and firing it in short order into the head of the infected woman scrabbling at Roy's chest as he fended her off. There were more walking corpses than they'd expected and they were clearly being overwhelmed by the sheer number of them.

"I'm out of arrows!" Roy panted as Oliver kicked the feet out from under one man, grabbing a knife from his boot and using it to put down the infected individual.

"Start collecting them from the bodies." Oliver barked his orders and Roy obeyed, collecting as many of the arrows as he could while Oliver took down two more of the infected. Breathing heavily, his blue eyes scanned the alley, horrified to find more and more infected bodies  turning the corner to come at them. Grabbing Roy by the shoulder, Oliver dragged the boy into the club with him.

"Roy, help me blockade the doors." Oliver directed and the red-clad figure strode forward unquestioningly to help Oliver as they shoved the doors to the club closed, deadbolting the lock and quickly piling the bodies of the infected they had killed in front of the door for added blockade. It wasn't much, but it was the best they could do.

"Let's go." Oliver growled, hurrying down the long, dark hallway with Roy hot on his heels. When they turned a familiar corner and found the entry door to the Foundry ajar, however, Oliver skidded to a half. A wave of cold terror flooded him, his skin prickling with unease and his hair standing on end. Drawing his bow, he had one arrow nocked and ready to fire as he crept down the stairs, Roy mirroring him and bringing up the rear.

The place seemed silent, though Oliver couldn't really be certain; he could hardly hear a thing over the sound of his own heart, pounding as though it would rip free from his chest. _Please let her be okay_. He sent up a silent prayer, cursing himself for not coming back for her sooner. It had taken the better part of a day to clear the sections of the hospital necessary to reach Digg and Lyla. They'd holed up in the hospital room overnight, afraid to attempt any kind of escape in the dark. The next day had seen them escape the hospital with Digg, Lyla, and the baby safely in tow, but the city streets had become so overrun that they'd been unable to get anywhere near the Foundry. Instead, the team had been forced to retreat to the Queen mansion which, mercifully, seemed far enough removed from the chaos that Oliver had felt comfortable leaving Digg and Lyla there so he and Roy could go back for Felicity.

It had proven a perilous voyage. And so, here they were, three and a half days after having left her alone in the Foundry, come to rescue her and bring her back to the mansion. And truthfully, Oliver had no idea how they were going to get her back safely, given that the two of them, as able bodied and capable individuals, had barely managed to make it that distance in one piece. But he knew he couldn't leave her behind. He'd rather die trying to save her than live with the knowledge of having abandoned her. Having _failed her_.

"Felicity?" He called in a low voice as they descended into view of the Foundry, the soft hum of a generator the only answer to his summons. The light he'd left on for her remained on, dimly illuminating the space, but the table beneath it was empty. Feeling his heart palpate nervously, Oliver looked about wildly for any sign of her, terror screaming through his veins.

"Felicity!" He yelled loudly now, all concern of being overheard by the herd of infected above lost as he frantically searched for her, throwing upon doors fruitlessly. She was gone. How could she be gone?  "No. No, no _no no no._ " He muttered as he criss-crossed the room in disbelief and fear.

"Hey, there's no sign of struggle, no bodies, and there's no blood. Those are good signs." Roy offered weakly, lowering his bow as Oliver frantically began to tear the Foundry apart.

"GOOD SIGNS?" Oliver bellowed, throwing a tray of arrow shafts flying as he came to stare down his teammate. "I think the fact that she's not here is a pretty overwhelmingly _bad sign_ , wouldn't you say, Roy?" He roared, storming away and to the table where he had left her. His fists slammed down on the cold metal as he hunched over the table, overcome with guilt and regret.

"I should never have left her." He murmured, white hot rage flashing through him and followed quickly by self loathing. _This was all his fault_.

"Oliver-" Roy was calling him but he couldn't find the energy to care, drowning in the shame of having failed her yet again.

"OLIVER!" Roy hollered, shaking him by the shoulder. "Look, there's no IV stand. So that means she either woke up or-"

"Or what, Roy? Someone took her _and_ her IV stand to god only knows where?" Oliver growled and Roy threw up his hands and stormed about, looking for signs of what might have happened. After several minutes he returned, conviction in his voice when he spoke.

"Oliver, her catheter bag is in the bathroom. Her spare change of clothes is missing from the closet and I can't find her purse or her tablet and we both know she doesn't go anywhere without that thing." Roy explained, shaking his head as he looked around. "I… I think she woke up."

Oliver felt some of the pressure building in his head lessen for a moment and suddenly he was making for the stairs. Roy, confused at the sudden exit, stumbled after him, confused but compliant.

"So what's the plan? …Oliver? Where do we go next?" Roy asked as he followed after his green clad leader.

"If she woke up, she won't have a clue what's gone on while she's been in the coma." Oliver stated briskly and matter-of-factly as he strode for the stairs, intent on escaping the growing crowd around the club by using a grappling arrow from the roof. "You said it yourself, Roy. The IV stand was gone. You know Felicity; have you ever known her to be in any way okay with pointy objects?" Oliver asked and Roy chuckled and shook his head.

"About as okay with them as she is kangaroos."

"Exactly. So what's the first thing she's going to want to do if she just woke up with a needle stuck in her?"

"Get it taken out. So what… you think she went to the hospital?" Roy queried and Oliver could hear the sense of victory leaving the younger man's voice as he realized what Oliver already had.

Their blonde, babbling IT girl was (possibly) unwittingly headed towards one of the worst infection sites in the entire city. And they had no way of warning her before she got there.

 _If_ she got there. The idea of her body, bloodied and broken lying on the street, or worse, mangled and shuffling along with the other infected jumped to Oliver's mind and he nearly vomited. But as the pair of leather clad vigilantes strode out onto the roof of Verdant, Oliver wasn't sure if it was his imagination or reality that had him more frightened. Because as he peered over the edge of the building, he could see the herd of infected had doubled in size, with more of the reanimated corpses moving about in the surrounding streets.

They had to find her and fast because if they didn't? There was no way she would survive outrunning herds of that size. And there would be no way for them to search for her if the herd continued to grow – it would be impossible to stage any kind of search and rescue with that many infected, undead hot on their heels, drawn to their every move.

"Where are you Felicity?" Oliver whispered under his breath, closing his eyes as he pulled his hood up and slipped on his mask as Roy did the same behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

"Are we sure this is such a good idea?" She whispered under her breath as they crept down the apartment stairwell as quickly as they dared. Lance was in the lead, one hand on his flashlight, the other holding his sidearm out before him.

"Unless I missed something, this was _your_ idea, Miss Smoak." He reminded her, pausing to cast a glance back at her, one brow quirked.

"I didn't _actually_ think you'd go along with it." She muttered as Lance shook his head at her in amusement and they kept moving down the stairs. As they went, Felicity adjusted the backpack slung over her shoulder, one hand gently checking to confirm that her tablet was still safely stowed inside the front pocket.

"How long do we have?" Lance asked, his voice a strained whisper as they turned the final corner and began to descend the last flight of stairs. Checking the timer she'd set up on her phone, she inhaled deeply before answering him.

"Another minute and seventeen seconds." She swallowed nervously, glancing at Lance as he fumbled at his side. After a moment, he half turned towards her, holding out something before him.

"Take it." He urged, pressing it into her hands. Turning the item over in her palm, Felicity stared at it in the darkness, straining to see it clearly.

"A nightstick?" She asked, staring at the black baton like piece skeptically. They'd scavenged around in the apartment and found scant that could effectively be used against the infected. Still, they _had_ found an old wooden baseball bat and some very grisly looking switchblades. In comparison, the nightstick felt like poor defense but Lance seemed pleased with his choice of weaponry for her.

"Hold it like this," he corrected her grip, repositioning how she clutched the thing in her hand, "Police batons were built specifically _not_ to kill, but if one of the infected comes at you, you'll at least be able to defend yourself with this without posing a risk to yourself."

"But a baseball bat _would_ pose a risk?" She asked with a raised brow and he regarded her with a wry expression.

"You nearly cut yourself when I tried to show you how to use a knife. Imagine the damage you could do if you splintered a bat." Lance reminded and she directed a frustrated pout his direction.

"It slipped; I didn't cut myself. I just put a ding in the floor." She argued, making a final case for herself.

"Not your strongest argument; do you want the baton or not?" He asked, putting out a hand to take it back but right away, Felicity clutched it to her fiercely, not about to relinquish her lone source of protection.

"No!"

"I didn't think so." Lance smirked, shaking his head as he stepped behind her to grab their poor man's version of weapons from within the backpack. Sticking a pocket knife in his pant pocket, he slipped his flashlight back into its holder and his piece in his holster as he took up the baseball bat in its stead. "Alright. We don't use the gun unless we absolutely have to or else the sound will draw the infected." He explained to her pointedly.

Felicity was fairly certain that her stomach was in her throat in that moment, but she nodded and clutched her baton tightly. Her grip on it was white knuckled and she was shaking like a leaf as Lance eased the stairwell door open and peeked his head out into the hallway. After glancing around, he stepped out of the stairwell and waved for Felicity to follow him.

The hallway was empty and half lit with light streaming in from the lobby's entry doors. Careful to stay out of sight, the pair pressed against the wall and waited.

Her plan had been a simple one at first glance, albeit highly dependent on several variables.

_"Explain it to me one more time." Lance had asked before they'd left the apartment, nervous as Felicity laid out her plan._

_"I recorded this audio file to play on loop; there's five minutes of silence at the beginning before the actual message starts. That's the time we'll have to lower the stereo to the ground and then get to the ground floor on the opposite side of the apartment." She'd explained to Lance, motioning to the basic map she'd sketched out._

_"And then?"_

_"Then, once the message starts playing, we wait for the herd to move towards the noise. When the street is cleared out enough for us to make a move, we'll make a run for the other building. If it works, the infected will be distracted by the stereo and the message will hopefully cover any noise we make. If all goes well, we should get to the solar panel powered building without issue."_

To their great fortune, they'd managed to find a stereo that fit the bill (functional and battery operated), as well as enough rope to lower said stereo to the ground floor on the opposite side of the apartment complex. It had gone better than Felicity had hoped, in truth. But now, when confronted with the reality of entering a street filled with infected people mere feet away? Well, she was feeling a sight less confident in her plan.

What if their stereo transmitted message, instead of distracting the infected and emptying the street, only drew more of the infected to their building and left them permanently trapped? She could have signed their death warrants by hitting play on that audio file.

And then, before she could dwell on it any further, Felicity heard her audio file began to blare from the other side of the building.

 _"My name is Felicity Smoak. I am part of a group of survivors."_ It was a lie, she knew, but Captain Lance had insisted she not tell the truth (that there were only two of them) to discourage potential attacks or raids.

 _"We are alive and uninfected."_ Her message continued but Felicity's focus was on Lance, who had grabbed her shoulder and was towing her alongside him as he crept down the hallway. From their vantage point, Felicity was able to see the figures of a dozen or so of the infected, shuffling hurriedly away from the doors of the apartment and down toward the corner. They were pursuing the sound of her message.

It was working!

_"We are in the process of restoring power to our location and we are working on restoring communications. If you are healthy and in need of shelter, go to any building with power; we will try to communicate with you."_

She had _wanted_ to be more specific and tell people which buildings would have power but Lance had shot her down again, saying if they told people which buildings in particular to go to, it could lead to infighting among the healthy as they fought over power and safety within those buildings. Felicity had felt her conscious bow beneath the weight of her guilt at not helping people potentially in need but she needed Lance's help if she was going to find Oliver.

And even if it made her a really, super horrible person, she wanted to find Oliver and her other friends more than almost anything in the world.

"Time to move." Lance urged after while, moving towards the doors and removing the bike lock he had used to bar them shut. With a nod to Felicity, he raised a finger to his lips to ensure her silence (as if she could have spoken with her heart in her throat) and with one swift movement, he opened the doors.

_"We are looking for our missing friends and family members. Sara, Laurel, Oliver, Roy, John, Lyla, Thea – if you are listening to this, go to the place where I went from IT to EA."_

Felicity hadn't wanted to come right out and say "Queen Consolidated", lest ill intentioned ears overhear, but she was hoping her code would be obvious enough to Oliver that he would know where to go. QC drew its power from an alternative power source which she was betting (and betting quite a lot on, actually) was still fully functional despite the crisis that had befallen the city.

_"Wherever you are… Stay safe. Keep fighting; we will find you. I promise."_

She hadn't known how to end the message but something encouraging for her loved ones had seemed appropriate.

Staring at the infected with wide, scared eyes, Felicity followed fearfully after Captain Lance as he led their desperate bid for survival out onto the open, vulnerable streets of the Glades. They navigated the first block easily, with all the infected drawn to their stereo-blared message. But as they rounded the corner into the narrow alley that would provide them with an (almost) straight shot to their endpoint, Felicity saw that their luck might have run its course.

"Shit." Lance muttered softly as they came into view of half a dozen of the infected, all of whom took instant notice of them and altered their course to head their way. Felicity felt her breathing hitch and her heart rate spike.

There was a very real possibility she was about to die.

"Stay behind me." Lance warned, placing himself as a human shield in front of her, slamming his gun into his holster as he dropped the baseball bat in his hands so he could withdraw the kitchen knife he'd used on the infected man when he'd rescued her. Nodding wordlessly, Felicity gulped and took a steadying breath, her grip on the police baton like an iron vice.

"If I'm infected, make a run for the building. You don't stop until you're safe, you hear?"

"I'm not going to _leave you_!" Felicity protested shrilly but Lance was already charging headlong at the infected. He knocked the infected teenager in the lead over with a swift kick. As soon as it was on the ground Lance was atop it, ramming the knife through the right eye socket, tugging on the knife twice sharply before it came free with a sickening sucking sound. With an agility that surprised Felicity, the Captain then swept his leg out and kicked the feet out from under the next of the infected, dispatching of the second in a similar manner as the first.

For a brief moment, Felicity felt as though they might actually make it out of this whole mess alright. But that was when the next few came at Lance at once.

Though he kicked and darted around them, careful never to let them get too close, Lance couldn't seem to separate out one of the infected from the group. All too quickly, they began to close in around him. Hesitating, Felicity could see his hand as it moved towards his hip, hovering there for a moment uncertainly.

 _If he used the gun, they were finished_. Every single one of the walking infected would be drawn to the noise, based on what Lance had told her. Their stereo message wouldn't do them a bit of good if he sounded the dinner bell by discharging his sidearm.

She ran headlong at the small herd of the infected, aiming for one on the outer edge of their small circle. In what was probably the worst postured tackle that football had (never) seen, she flung herself at the infected man's chest, knocking him to the ground along with her.

Disoriented for a moment, it didn't register in Felicity's brain that something had grabbed her until she looked down to see the infected man's hands wrapping around her ankle. With a muted shriek, she had been about to kick at him when a dull thud sounded as a baseball bat collided with the infected man's head. Captain Lance appeared and grasped the infected man by the head, wrenching his mouth further still away from Felicity's exposed ankles and swinging again and again at the man's head. A sharp crack sounded and she heard Lance curse.

"Skimmed the asphalt; the bat's done." He growled as he tossed away the splintered base of the bat, grabbing up the knife instead as he ducked down to dispose of the infected man he'd been bludgeoning. Though it went in easily enough, he struggled trying to get the blade free.

Scrambling away and onto her feet, Felicity saw that Lance was still fighting to pry the knife free. As the remaining infected drew nearer, she knew he wouldn't have the knife free from the dead man's skull in time to make use of it. And so, Felicity did the only thing she could think to do.

She started swinging the police baton.

It cracked against the infected woman's skull with a muted knock and Felicity was shocked to see how little the woman reacted – namely, that she didn't react, except to sway for a moment as the blow knocked her off balance before she came at Felicity again. With another swing, Felicity connected again, this time with the woman's jaw, which fell open and stayed open, apparently broken by the force of the blow. Cringing, Felicity swung again and took another swing, then another – this time at a bloodied mailman that had gotten within arm's reach of her.

"The knife's stuck!" Lance growled in a panic and Felicity, not daring to take her eyes off of the infected before her, spoke over her shoulder to him.

"Is there anything in the alley? Is there a dumpster you can dig around in?"

"Dumpster diving, that's your solution?"

"Have you got a better one!? Those switchblades aren't much good if you can't stun them first!" She shot back, ducking to avoid a wild swipe from one of the infected. She felt the wind of the woman's hand as it narrowly missed her own, mere centimeters from having gained purchase on her skin.

 _Centimeters away from being infected_.

They needed to get off the street. _Now_.

Battling with the remaining trio, Felicity swung the police baton wildly, her arms burning with fatigue as blow after blow landed on unresponsive flesh, failing to do the kind of damage necessary to make them stop coming at her once and for all. Heaving the baton at the face of the nearest infected, Felicity dimly began to wonder if they wouldn't be better off using the gun after all (noise be damned) when Lance suddenly reappeared, a piece of metal pipe in hand.

"Look out!" He directed, stepping in front of her and swinging the pipe from over his head, down onto the skull of the nearest infected. Like a fly, the infected woman dropped and while she was on the ground (still stirring), Lance brought the metal pipe down once, then twice, until finally the woman's head seemed to burst like a water balloon or something from a Saturday morning cartoon. Just much less PG and a lot more R in rating, Felicity thought with a gulp.

As Lance brandished the pipe before him as thought to try again, Felicity stepped up alongside him, her baton held aloft before her. Lance eyed her for a moment, as though contemplating whether or not he wanted her to stand behind him and then he finally nodded.

"On three." Felicity offered, turning her gaze back to the remaining pair of infected. "One,-" she began, only to be cut short by Lance.

"THREE!" He barked, lunging forward and swinging sharply at the infected. Belatedly, Felicity did the same, angry at Lance's premature move until she saw what he had seen.

At the opposite end of the alley, in the direction they had just come from, more of the infected were coming towards them – and fast. Drawn by the sound of their fighting no doubt, the lure of prey had apparently driven the infected away from the audio stimulus Felicity's message had been intended to provide.

Dropping to the ground, Felicity kicked at the ankles of the two infected as roughly as she could, rewarded for her efforts as first one and then the second dropped to the ground after having their ankles kicked out from under them.

"Good enough!" Lance grumbled, grabbing her arm and half pulling, half dragging her back onto her feet as they fled down the alley away from the oncoming infected. As they exited onto the next street, Felicity glanced around to regain her bearings, staring at the skyline quizzically before pointing ahead of them.

"There!" She indicated the apartment building she'd spotted from the window of the apartment Lance had been holed up in.

"Let's go!" Lance ordered, running at an all out sprint for the doors to the apartment lobby, Felicity following after him more slowly. The Captain reached the doors first, his hands enclosing around the handles and jerking them back roughly, only to have the doors rattle but remain closed. "What the hell?!" He growled, staring at the doors and trying the handles again with the same, fruitless result.

"The building must still have power – the locks are engaged." Felicity marveled, staring up at the building and craning her neck to see the solar panels atop it, smiling like a lunatic. Her hunch had been right – the solar panels were functioning. _Thank goodness._

"A lot of good that power's going to do us if we get gobbled up here on the street." Lance reminded her and Felicity's face fell as she came back to reality.

"Oh. Right. Um, one second." Felicity glanced around, looking for a panel that she could try to short circuit. Finding said panel, she had just begun to pry the cover off when the sound of glass shattering filled her ears. Shrinking away from the noise and the shower of glass, Felicity stumbled back a step and looked at Lance, who was knocking the remaining glass pieces out of the door frame with the metal pipe he'd used to break the glass in the first place.

"You coming?" He asked, offering her a hand which Felicity accepted, gaping at him in disbelief as they clambered into the deserted lobby.

"Did you seriously just-"

"If we ever get this city rightside up again, I'll pay the management company for a replacement door." Lance muttered. "Until then, I think we're past B&E charges, don't you?" Lance asked and Felicity just gawked at him in shock.

And really, it was true; they'd killed how many infected people already? And sure, Lance had explained to her that they were dead. And what she'd seen certainly supported that. But if things ever did return to normal, he was right. A broken glass door and breaking and entering charges would pale in comparison to murder charges.

Not that you could technically murder something that had already died. But still.

"Right. _"_ Felicity exhaled and nodded, rubbing her temples for a moment as she tried to think. "Okay we um… we need to get into one of these apartments and see what the power situation is." She breathed, trying to focus on survival and not the bodies they had just dropped.

"Okay." Lance grimaced, glancing around and pointing at the sign for the stairwell. "Guess we better get upstairs before they get here, eh?" He said, gesturing outside where the infected were presumably still coming this way.

"The sooner the better." Felicity agreed, following after Lance as he made for the stairs.

\-----

"Oliver… we need to turn back. Or call it a night" The wind muted Roy's words as it picked up, whistling sharply as it blew through the streets and was funneled by the buildings around them. Sitting on the edge of the building, his feet dangling over the edge, Oliver buried his face in his hands.

They still hadn't found any signs of her. They'd managed to make it to the hospital, but not without a few close calls, one of which had cost Oliver a cracked rib as he and Roy had made a hurried escape from the overrun building.

If Felicity had made it the hospital, she'd left no clues behind.

And now, with the sun beginning to rapidly descend, Oliver was keenly aware that they needed to either turn back or find a place to take shelter for the night, and then resume their search in the morning. Despite his attempts to hide it, Oliver knew which option Roy was in favor of.

Oliver knew his protégé was doubtful that Felicity was alive, any hope he'd harbored having been extinguished by the scene of the hospital, more overrun than the last time they'd seen it. Apparently, as the infection had worsened, people had flocked to the building in hopes of safety or supplies and instead, they'd found only misfortune. The sight of the eight year old girl, bloodied and lost to infection, had rattled Roy badly and it was that moment that Oliver was convinced Arsenal's hope of finding Team Arrow's IT girl had perished.

But Oliver wasn't ready to give up. Not by a long shot.

With a sigh, Oliver slung his feet back onto the roof and stood, his eyes dark as he took in the broken remains of the city he had worked so hard to protect.

 _They_ had worked so hard to protect.

"We'll spend the night here. In the morning, we'll go to Felicity's place and look for her there. If she's not there, we'll try Queen Consolidated." He stated firmly and Roy's head whipped up in alarm.

"QC? You can't be serious. You saw the size of the herd outside of it when the TV stations were still broadcasting; we can't get anywhere near that place."

"We know that. But Felicity was in a coma – she doesn't. She might try to go there."

"Oliver-" Roy began to protest, only for Oliver to whirl at him in a rage.

"What Roy? You want me to just give up on her? Go home and pretend like we didn't just _abandon her to die_?"

"That's _not_ what happened and you know it." Roy shot back sharply, the emotional nature of the subject reaching a fever pitch as Roy began to lose his cool. "And I'm sick of you saying that we left her to die. We were trying to save her, Oliver! She could just as easily have died if we brought her with us. We did the best we could in the moment. We had every intention of coming back for her – and we DID go back for her. Now stop blaming yourself – and me by association!"

Oliver was silent as he regarded Roy, his jaw taut with anger as he leveled an angry glare at his partner.

"I can't stop, Roy. I'm the one that left her there. It was my choice – not yours. And I won't rest until I find her. So you can either help me or _get the hell out of my way_." He growled, shoving past the red-clad vigilante-in-training to stalk to the opposite corner of the building, crossing his arms before him moodily.

It was then that the wind quieted just enough that the faintest strains of noise reached his ears. His body went rigid and, apparently noticing this, Roy piped up.

"What is it?"

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Roy asked, blinking as he looked around uncertainly, clearly on edge as he looked for the source of Oliver's sudden tension.

"I thought I heard-" Oliver muttered, leaning dangerously over the edge of the building and then jumping over the edge. His feet landed a few moments later on the fire escape with a clang that seemed to reverberate through his whole body. From above, he heard a muffled swear of surprise from Roy. Not waiting to see if the younger man followed, Oliver began scampering down the fire escape until he reached a safe enough level to jump to the street below.

With light steps, Oliver darted down the street, drawing his bow and firing off three shots in rapid fire to take out some of the infected that were shuffling aimlessly about. Grabbing up his arrows as he raced past, he listened for the sound, his heart beating painfully in his chest when only silence met his ears.

He rounded a corner and skidded to a stop, instantly backing up and out of sight of a large, tightly clustered herd. Retreating quickly, he looked about, his eyes landing on the fire escape of a nearby building. With practiced ease, he jumped at the brick wall, pushing off of it and shifting his weight in midair to alter his course so he could half crash into, half grab the edge of the fire escape and pull himself up.

Taking a deep breath, he looked around and took stock of his surroundings before he began to climb up the stairs, stopping only when a familiar, low whistle reached his ears, drawing him up short.

"That whole parkour crap is cool and all, but you mind lowering the ladder?" Roy called to him in a raised whisper, prompting Oliver to scoff in amusement.

"And call every infected for blocks over? I don't think so. 'Parkour' yourself up here, 'Arsenal'." He mocked, well aware that anger was a great motivator for Roy. In response, the boy's jaw clenched, clearly not amused by the mockery. A moment later, he mimicked Oliver's earlier motions, though his jump had him falling just short of the railing. Oliver grabbed at his protégé's hand before he could fall and gracelessly heaved the boy up onto the fire escape, staring at him reprovingly.

"We'll have to work on that." He commented, prompting Roy to scowl at him and shake off his mentor's hand.

"You mind telling me why you felt the sudden need to go diving off of that building back there?" Roy asked and Oliver opened his mouth to respond and then closed it, suddenly self conscious. Maybe it had only been wishful thinking, just the result of the wind and a desperate, sleep deprived mind playing tricks on him.

"I…. I thought I heard-" he began, only to be interrupted by the blaring sound of an all too familiar voice echoing across the city block from somewhere just around the corner from their present location.

_My name is Felicity Smoak. I am part of a group of survivors._

Oliver felt his heart stutter and his whole body froze at the sound of her voice booming out across the Glades like thunder. _Felicity_.

_We are alive and uninfected._

"Holy shit." Roy muttered, looking around wildly for a moment, pausing only to lock eyes with Oliver. They were both frozen for a second before they sprang into action, racing up the fire escape and cresting the top of the building with ease. Without delay, they race across the roof to look for the source of Felicity's voice, finding only the tightly clustered pack of the infected that Oliver had seen on the street.

 _We are in the process of restoring power to our location and we are working on restoring communications. If you are healthy and in need of shelter, go to any building with power; we will try to communicate with you._ Her voice continued to blare across the streets of the Glades, prompting the infected below to stamp about and groan and grasp about, seeking prey that they could hear but could not smell or see.

 _Oh_. That explained it – whatever Felicity had rigged to play her message was drawing all of the nearby infected to this location. That explained why the streets a few blocks over were so deserted – all the infected were drawn to the sound of Felicity's message.

"She's playing it on a loop." Oliver murmured in awe, his lips turning upward into the barest of grins, his chest puffing with pride at the ingenuity of his beautiful blonde IT girl. Leave it to Felicity to contrive something like this.

_We are looking for our missing friends and family members. Sara, Laurel, Oliver, Roy, John, Lyla, Thea – if you are listening to this, go to the place where I went from IT to EA._

His heart twisted at the sound of her saying his name and for a moment, he closed his eyes and could almost envision her with him, back in the safety of the Foundry. He could summon the memory of her accepting his invitation to their dinner date, could recall with perfect clarity the dazzling smile she'd given him and the adorable way she'd bobbed her head and said 'yes'.

She was alive. And she was looking for them.

_Wherever you are… Stay safe. Keep fighting; we will find you. I promise._

The recording went silent at that point, leaving only the groans and moans of the infected in its wake. Oliver felt the silence like it was palpable, a hole in his brain where only moments before, her voice, her light, had been.

"Where she went from IT to EA…. Wait, does she mean Queen Consolidated?" Roy asked, his features screwed up in concentration. Snapping out of his reverie, Oliver looked to Roy with an impassive expression and gave a tight nod.

"That'd be my guess, yeah."

"No way, Oliver. It's a mess over there, we said-"

"No Roy, _you_ said. Felicity said that her group was working on restoring power. That means they're somewhere that could conceivably have power somehow. If she gets power, Felicity will get a message out to us. That means that all we need to do is keep some mode of communication functional at the mansion. She'll find a way to get word to us that way." Oliver assured and Roy relaxed visibly.

"So we aren't going to QC?" He asked and Oliver shook his head, forcing a smile.

"No Roy, _we_ aren't going to QC."

There would be no 'we' – Roy would go back to the Queen family mansion to pass word to the others and to help keep them safe. Oliver would venture on solo to QC to wait for Felicity's message. He just wouldn't tell Roy that that was the plan…

If Felicity wanted him to wait for her at Queen Consolidated, he'd brave the journey, hoards of infected be damned.

"I'm coming, Felicity." He whispered to the darkening sky, his fingers curling into fists. If she could just keep fighting for survival a little longer, he could find her. He knew he could. He wouldn't give up until he found her, one way or the other.

She'd never given up on him. He couldn't very well give up on her.


	5. Chapter 5

The apartment's stairwell was dimly lit by only emergency lights with the occasional flicker from the fluorescent light panels overhead. Felicity tried her best to quiet her breathing, suddenly feeling as if every little sound was magnified in the cramped quarters of the stairs.

"I'll take the lead." Lance whispered, the metal pipe still held aloft before him as they began to creep up the apartment's stairs, their eyes peeled for any sign of movement. Felicity followed behind him, the police baton shaking only slightly in her hands.

There was a distinct possibility that the herd which she'd tried to draw away with her stereo blared message had instead, followed the noise they'd made during their escape and was now flooding the apartment lobby behind them. If something went wrong here in the stairwell, they'd be pinned down with nowhere to run. Once more confronted with the very real possibility that she could die at any moment, Felicity couldn't fight off thoughts of Oliver. And not just thoughts of him – _regrets_. There were so many things she wanted to have the chance to do over, so many things she still needed to say to him.

She only prayed that she'd have the chance to say them. Even if saying them resulted in a lot of foot-in-mouth, babbling blunders. She didn't want to leave things unspoken between them.

They crept towards the doorway that would admit them to the second floor and she saw Lance peer through the small, square window at the top of the door, his hand hovering over the handle. When the fluorescent lights flickered again though, Lance jerked back, his hand pulled sharply away from the handle. Frowning at him questioningly, before she could even speak he simply shook his head at her and motioned upward.

Leading the way onward, Felicity crept after him, unable to help glancing through the window as she walked by it, ever curious.

She immediately regretted looking. Even with her brief glance, she could see the prostrate forms of several people lying in a crimson pool. Bloody footprints surrounded the dismembered bodies and Felicity felt bile rise in her throat as she averted her gaze. Swallowing it down, she hurried after Lance, trying to blink away the tears that had risen in the corners of her eyes.

 _She really shouldn't have looked_.

When Lance and Felicity reached the third floor landing, Felicity was careful to look anywhere but through the window of the door, not at all eager for a repeat showing of the scene on the second floor. As Lance's hand came to rest on the handle though, Felicity had an idea.

"Wait!" She whispered in alarm, prompting Lance's hand to drop instantly from the door handle as he turned to look at her in surprise.

"What?" He asked, clearly confused at her hesitation, given their current, precarious predicament. In answer, Felicity stepped forward and gently, so that the noise didn't echo too much, tapped her police baton against the door. She paused, waiting a few seconds and then rapped the door again. She'd been about to tap it a third time when a pair of bloody hands slammed against the window, making Felicity and Lance both jump nearly out of their skin.

A second set of bloody hands appeared in the window as another of the infected pounded on the door, while the snarls and growls of still more infected sounded from on the other side of the door. Wide eyed, Lance turned to her and nodded approvingly as he hefted the pipe onto his shoulder and they continued their trek up the stairwell.

 _That's two floors down; how many more do we have?_ Felicity wondered to herself with a gulp.

Part of Felicity wanted to skip checking any of the other floors and just go straight to the roof. They wouldn't have much shelter, sure, but they'd have a great vantage point from which to see in case Oliver, Roy, and Sara were up to any of their usual rooftop antics. In fact, the roof was probably a better place for them to hole up and be found, if she was being honest. But the roof certainly wouldn't have any of the food and water supplies that she and Lance so desperately needed.

So like it or not, they _were_ going to have to enter onto one of the apartment floors and clear it so they could search for food and drink.

"Let's go all the way to the top." Felicity suggested and Lance paused mid-step to look at her, frowning at the idea.

"That puts a lot of floors between us and an escape route, Miss Smoak." He reasoned and Felicity nodded with only the slightest trace of hesitancy.

"It does; but it also puts a lot fewer stairs between us and power." She explained. "And if we're on the top floor, we're close to the roof which, as you know, is usually the Arrow's landing pad." She explained, prompting the Captain to roll his eyes and nod.

"You really think he'll turn up, huh?" He asked, leveling a cool stare at Felicity, who couldn't help but swallow nervously as she brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"Absolutely." She answered resolutely, jutting her chin out before her and practically daring Lance to argue with her. "Wherever he is, if he's alive, he's looking for me." Lance looked her over for a moment and then just shook his head in quiet acquiescence.

"Alright; top floor it is." He sighed, resuming their ascent. The stairwell remained alarmingly quiet though, really, she supposed that was a good thing. It meant that the herd wasn't breaking down the door at the base of the stairwell and for that, she could be grateful for the creepy, horror movie-esque silence.

"Who is he?" Lance suddenly asked as they rounded the corner of the fifth floor and Felicity jerked out of her reverie to stare at the back of his neck in puzzlement.

"Who is who? …Wh-… _The Arrow_?" She asked incredulously after her brain had had a moment to play catch up and she saw the Captain's head bob up and down as he continued to lead the way up the staircase. "Why do you want to know?" Her tone was guarded and she heard him give a low chuckle as he processed.

"The city's gone. No telling how far this thing has spread. Could be we're looking at the end of human civilization. I figure there's no harm in telling me who he is now. It's not like I'm gonna book him for assault with a deadly weapon. After all, I _did_ disband the task force meant to catch him." Lance reasoned with a shrug and Felicity's lips fell open in surprise.

"You… you _disbanded_ it? So what, vigilante-ism is legal now?" Incredulous didn't quite cut it.

"Hardly." He shot back and she could tell he was searching for the right words to say. For all of his history with the Arrow, it seemed the Captain had grown fond of the green clad hero of Starling City. How cute – she'd have to mention that to Oliver later. "I just decided… SCPD has better things to do than hunt for a guy that's done this city a lot of good." He shrugged and then she saw his shoulders stiffen.

"Or rather, it _had_ better things to do; there is no SCPD now." He sighed and Felicity felt her heart go out to the older man. He seemed to collect himself quickly though and in short order he was prodding for information once more. "So come on, Miss Smoak. Who is he?" Lance asked and Felicity's lips pressed into a disapproving line.

"That's not my secret to tell, Captain." She answered, able to hear but not see the exasperated huff that he gave by way of answer. He was silent for another few steps and then…

"Whoever he is… He's lucky to have you watching his six." Lance remarked, pausing to turn his gaze to her for a moment. "Your loyalty is impressive… And a little alarming, if we're being honest."

"I'm going to choose to take that as a compliment." Felicity answered back, about to make a teasing remark to the Captain in order to lighten the mood and redirect the conversation away from what the Arrow's true identity was when suddenly, the Captain threw a hand out behind him to stop her and she drew up short with a sudden exhale.

Noise.

Felicity's head jerked up as she detected the echoing knocks of uncoordinated feet making a hurried descent down the floors of stairs above their heads. How many floors above, she couldn't even begin to hazard a guess. The echo of each footfall was too distorted for untrained ears such as hers to be able to pinpoint how close the approaching noise maker was. But the point was something-  or someone – was making a beeline for them.

Not exactly what she had wanted to hear.

"Hug the wall." Lance's voice was stern and brittle with nervous energy as he clutched the metal pipe before him. "We'll have to try and throw them over the railing; we don't have the maneuvering space to fight them in here." He explained in a hurried undertone as he knelt down, holding onto the metal railing for added stability. Felicity backed into the corner, pressing her body flat against the wall as the noises grew louder.

 _They really needed to get better weapons than a metal pipe and a police baton_. She thought distantly. But as a lurching shape emerged into view of the dimly lit stairwell, Felicity's world narrowed to a pinprick.

The infected man was missing his right arm, and most of his ribcage on that half of his body. Felicity could smell the rank odor of rotting meat as he stumbled closer, his remaining hand opening and closing and his teeth clacking as his jaw chewed at empty air. Shivering at the sound, Felicity felt her blood go cold as the man's bloodshot eyes landed on her and he let out a horrific sound halfway between a moan and a scream.

Lance charged the infected man before he could draw any closer to Felicity, throwing his weight behind the metal pipe as he drove it upward into the man's skull. As the man staggered backward, the police captain ducked behind him and drew the pipe across the man's throat. Had he been living, it would have been a perfect, suffocating hold but as it was, the man could only struggle against Lance's grip, his jaw continuing to open and close as he attempted to consume his unseen attacker.

"Help me get him over the rail!" Lance directed and Felicity sprang forward with only a slight delay, hoisting the man's feet over the topmost rung, hefting his weight up as best she could. She did her best to ignore the slickness of the man's blood on her hands, and she definitely was not going to dwell on the fact that his intestines were dangling out of his stomach like some disgusting string of sausage.

Oh god. She was never, _ever_  looking at sausage the same way again, if they made it through this. 

"On three!" Lance explained and she nodded, waiting for the count before she threw her weight into lifting the man and his stupid dangling sausage intestines over the rail. Lance drew his hand and the pipe away just as the man's own weight sent him careening downward. A moment later there was a dull thud.

"Can they survive that?" Felicity asked nervously and the Captain gave her a wide eyed shrug.

"I dunno. But we're not going to stick around to find out."

Keeping the pipe out before him, Lance hurried up the stairs with Felicity hot on his heels, the infected man they'd just tossed acting as excellent incentive to get out of the stairwell. Whatever illusion of safety she'd been under was completely and utterly shattered.

"Alright, this is the last floor before the roof." Lance announced as they rounded the last landing. Rapping his knuckles loudly on the door, they waited and repeated the maneuver, both breathing an audible sigh of relief when none of the infected bum rushed the door at the sound.

It was a small victory, but at this point she was willing to take a "W" any way she could get one.

"How'd you know the top floor would be empty?" Lance asked her and she only shrugged at him as she adjusted her backpack strap as they readied themselves to enter the floor.

"SCFD code demands that tall buildings be evacuated floor by floor to reduce traffic and panic; top floor evacuates first." Felicity repeated in a rushed voice, completely missing the floored look that the Captain was giving her.

"That… that's right." He stated dumbly, looking at her in surprise. "I should have thought of that." He admitted and she shrugged.

"I was willing to overlook that in light of your other, life saving ideas of recent." She offered with a nervous smile. Nodding, Lance tugged at the collar of his shirt and then, after a conspiratorial glance Felicity's way, he wrenched the door to the top floor open and ducked inside, Felicity following after him a moment later.

\-----

It was dark by the time Oliver and Roy strode hurriedly across the sweeping drive of the Queen mansion, their bows in hand as they returned from their fruitless rescue mission. Their path was a winding zigzag, necessitated by the lines of wire with empty tin cans that they'd strung up around the mansion.

It was a poor man's alarm system but given that they had a limited power supply, it was the best they could manage without the mansion's motion detectors online (and even those were only in the immediate mansion – not much good for protecting the property line).

Ducking wearily beneath another line of cans strung across the path to the front door, the two men hurried to the door and Oliver raised his hand to knock three times, then paused and knocked a fourth knock, another pause, and then a fifth.

After a minute, the door cracked open and the terse face of John Diggle greeted them from behind a blindingly bright flashlight, his eyes sweeping over the pair with concern as he stepped aside so they could enter. Oliver could practically feel the pain radiating off of Diggle as he took in Felicity's absence. Closing the door quietly behind his partners, the older man did the locks with quick fingers before striding into the hall after Oliver and Roy.

"She… she didn't make it then?" Diggle's voice cracked with emotion as he passed a hand over his face, the other resting on his hip as he exhaled shakily.

"We ah…don't know." Roy interjected, his hands hanging at his sides as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other uneasily. Diggle froze, his hand still over his face and his entire body rigid. When he finally lowered his hand, the expression he wore was one of confusion and irritation, no doubt borne out of his concern for Felicity.

"What the hell do you mean you _don't know_?! She was in a coma – she either survived until you got to her or she didn't!" Diggle retorted, none too pleased with this answer and Oliver was once more struck by the realization that, when he had returned to the island after losing his mother, Felicity and Diggle had grown close. Their friendship, though different than the brotherhood he had with Digg, was every bit as strong. And not knowing her fate was likely as hard on Digg as it was for Oliver.

"She woke up, Digg." Oliver said gently, his eyes meeting his partner's for the first time since returning to the mansion. "She wasn't in the Foundry but she left an audio recording for us playing on the street in the Glades. She was alive and working on a power source. If she gets one, she'll contact us. We just have to wait for her to do that." Oliver explained, sharing a knowing look with Roy, who nodded in understanding.

"I'll tell Lyla." Roy offered quietly and strode off in the direction of the miniature command center that Lyla had compiled in what had formerly been Walter's study. Though they had been relying on a combination of generators and solar panels for power, Lyla had insisted on diverting at least some of that precious power to keep at least a few basic electronic modes of communication operational. Since the city had fallen, Lyla had been monitoring the airwaves for possible radio communicated instructions from the CDC or the government or _anyone_ who might come to their aid. If anyone was going to pick up a message from Felicity in their group, it would likely be her.

As Roy disappeared around the corner, Diggle stepped forward, bristling with anger and displeasure as he went toe to toe with Oliver.

"So you're telling me the plan is just to sit around here and wait and _hope_ that she finds a way of getting word to us without getting herself killed?" Digg asked, his features creased in a deep frown. "Oliver, that girl has stuck her neck out for you – for this _team_ – more times than I can count and I am not about to just sit idly by-" Diggle continued his rant in a low voice. Checking to be sure Roy was out of earshot, Oliver clapped a hand on Diggle's shoulder to interrupt him and leaned forward to speak in a conspiratorial undertone.

"I'm not going to sit idly by." He confessed, tilting his head to the side to indicate that Digg should follow him as he began to walk in the direction opposite of where Roy had disappeared. "I'm going after her, Digg. I only came back because I couldn't have Roy coming with me." He explained, but he could see the look of confusion on Diggle's face as he digested this last part.

"Oliver, we're fine here – you should take backup with you and if you won't let me out there, Roy's the next best thing."

Oliver was silent as they entered into the kitchen and for a moment he lost himself in opening the cupboards to grab a few necessities for the trip, careful not to take too much – they were well provisioned for now but with so many people in the mansion (and with him actively looking to add another mouth to feed in Felicity), they couldn't afford to be greedy.

Stuffing a pack of crackers into his bag, Oliver finally turned to face his partner again with a heavy sigh.

"Felicity's message…she said to go to Queen Consolidated." Oliver began, only for Diggle to suck in a breath and rub the back of his neck nervously.

"She doesn't know about it."

"I'm assuming she doesn't, no. She was probably still unconscious when the TV reports were still sending out footage of the herd downtown. But the point is, I can't bring Roy into that. So I'm leaving him here, with you. I'll go to QC by myself. I should be able to manage that easily enough with a zipline." He reasoned, though he could tell from Diggle's expression that the man still wasn't reassured. "I'll wait around until my supplies run out. That should give Felicity plenty of time to get a message to me, if she can."

"And if you don't hear from her before then?" Diggle asked, watching the shadow that passed over Oliver's features. He collected himself before he spoke, clearly rattled at the notion that he still might not be able to find her even if he did as her message had asked.

"Then I'll just have to keep looking." Oliver stated firmly, leaving no room for discussion.

"Did I hear you say you're going to keep looking?"

A soft voice drew both men's attention as a pair of figures entered the kitchen.

"Sara, Laurel… I didn't see you there." Oliver greeted them awkwardly, giving them a terse smile as he tried to ignore Laurel's question.

"Clearly." Laurel answered in a clipped tone, fixing him with a disapproving stare before she turned to address Diggle, her expression softening. "We put the baby down for a nap; she's asleep and Lyla said to tell you that you're up to bat." Laurel smiled gently; the group of them – Laurel, Sara, Roy, and Oliver – had been taking turns in tending to the baby, partly out of desire to help Lyla and John and partly because they all relished an escape from the horrors that had become their reality. And holding the tiny little girl that Lyla and Digg had yet to name? Well, that had proven extremely therapeutic for them all.

But as Laurel's attention refocused on Oliver, she once more assumed her stern tone, her brows furrowed critically.

"Are you serious though, Ollie? You're going to go back out there?"

"I take it this means you didn't find Felicity?" Sara cut in to ask in a softer voice, looking from Oliver to Diggle, who shook his head sadly.

"No; but she did leave a message for them and she told Oliver where to go and wait for her to contact him." Diggle offered. Sara lowered her gaze with a frown and Oliver could tell the blonde was feeling guilty; she'd wanted to help in the search but had feared leaving Laurel alone. And for good reason – the two Lance women had lost contact with their father shortly before phone service had been lost and with the very real possibility that her father was dead, Laurel had begun to spiral.

Sara had been the only one able to stop the spiral and since then, the two had been well nigh inseparable. So given the choice between going out in the field alone, or leaving Laurel without her emotional support system, Oliver had no choice but to opt to go out solo.

It was probably for the best anyway. After all, he really didn't want Sara or Laurel seeing their father's corpse walking around Starling City if the worst had indeed happened and Quentin Lance had been infected.

"Oliver, you tried. You went out there and you looked for her and all of us admire that but you risking your life to find one person in an entire city of infected people? That's just… it's not what's best for you or the group. I just don't want you to get yourself killed for nothing." Laurel explained gently, resting a palm on his forearm as she looked up at him beseechingly.  

"Laurel," Oliver began, keeping his voice level as he tamped down the anger that had flared in him at her suggestion to put aside his search, "Felicity could help us get power and communications up and running. She could help create a security system, she could get our gear working better. She could do _a lot_ that would help this group. She could help us locate other survivors! No one else can do what she can do. Having her around? That _is_ best for the group. So please don't tell me that dying trying to save her would be for nothing."

There had been a time he would have forfeited his life for a lot less. But dying to save or protect Felicity? That wasn't even a choice he had to think about; he'd choose to save her no matter the personal cost.

Sara stepped forward and put a hand on Laurel's shoulder to stop her from responding and instead looked to Oliver with a knowing nod.

"Laurel, think about it; if we had good intel on where Dad was, we'd be looking for him. Felicity is as good as family; Oliver has to look for her." Sara explained gently, watching as the tears gathered in the corners of Laurel's eyes at mere mention of their father. The brunette ducked her head, prompting Oliver to look away to give Laurel a moment of privacy.

They'd heard, unofficially, from one of the officers that had been under Captain Lance's command that he'd last been seen at the evacuation of an apartment complex in the Glades. The evacuation had been a last ditch effort to help the healthy by the skeleton crew of cops left on the police force at that point. It had ended in disaster, with only a handful of people successfully making it onto the buses that had been lined up on the street below to take the healthy.

According to the officer, Captain Lance had gone back into the building after it had been breached by the infected in order to try and save a child that had been separated from its parent. Though the child in question had made it out of the building, Quentin Lance had not. At least, not that the officer witness had seen. Though there was no definitive proof that he was dead… Well, the story had been enough to convince both Laurel and Sara that Quentin Lance was not likely to be hiding out somewhere in the city, fighting for survival.

Turning back to Oliver, Sara gathered him into a warm hug, giving his hood a playful tug as she backed away from him and returned to Laurel's side.

"Go get her, Arrow."

Oliver nodded and gave her a muted smile as he rechecked his bag just to be certain that he had what he would need for the trip. As he rifled through the contents, however, the quiet sound of a throat clearing interrupted him. He looked up to see Laurel facing Sara, holding her little sister's hands in hers.

"You should go with him."

Oliver's eyes widened and he fixed Laurel with an expression that likely mirrored the shock on Sara's face as she processed her sister's words. Opening and closing her mouth several times, Sara finally cleared her throat and shook her head at Laurel.

"I'm not going to leave y-" She began, only to be cut short.

"I'll be fine. I'm not going to do anything drastic. I'll stay here and help take care of the baby but… You were right, Sara." Laurel intoned shyly, turning her gaze to Oliver and holding his gaze in hers. "Felicity is family to you, Oliver. If you think you can find her, you should try."

Oliver was still too stunned by Laurel's sudden change of tune to protest and so instead he watched as Sara regarded her sister wordlessly for a moment before something seemed to click.

"You want me to look for him while we're out there." It wasn't spoken as a question but as a statement and Laurel gave a soft bob of her head and swallowed thickly, keeping her head up as though daring anyone to argue with her. And there it was, there was the reason Laurel was willing to part with her sister.

"Yes; but even if you don't find him," –here Laurel shifted to face Oliver, seriousness written in the lines of her face, "you said Felicity could help you locate survivors. Is that true?" Laurel inquired and Oliver couldn't help but feel like he was in court, being interrogated by her. She'd stepped into her scary court persona just like that.

He was suddenly very aware of why Laurel had been such a successful ADA.

"If anyone can, it's her." He confirmed, hoping that his faith in Felicity's abilities wasn't misplaced – he knew she could easily have found Lance with all of her tech at her command. How much of it would be operational now, with limited power and a grid that was questionable at best?

Still, he knew that if anyone stood a chance, it was Queen Consolidated's most accomplished IT girl. Laurel wanted Felicity to try and help them find Quentin Lance and if Laurel believed that Felicity could, she would part with Sara. And having Sara along to help him search for Felicity? Well… that would be helpful, Oliver couldn't deny.

"I know it's a long shot. But he could be out there. If Felicity survived long enough to leave a message for you when she was fresh out of a coma, then it's not impossible that he could have survived, given all of his training. And if she really can do what you say, then maybe Felicity could help us find him. I know, I sound horrible and selfish right now-" Laurel began but now it was her turn to be interrupted, this time by Oliver.

"No. You don't sound selfish, Laurel. You sound like anyone would in your shoes. You want to find your loved one. I'm certainly not going to judge you for that." Oliver offered with a light shrug.

"So you're okay with this?" Laurel asked and Oliver glanced to Sara for a moment to consider. Sara was far more reliable in the field than Roy was in some ways and far more unpredictable in others. Her time with the League of Assassins made her an unparalleled asset in hand to hand combat and though he didn't approve of the body count left in the wake of League business, he couldn't deny that that sort of killer instinct would come in handy now.

But there was a possibility that they would encounter her father as a walking corpse out there and training or no, he knew she'd become a liability at that point. Anyone would – it wasn't a shot at Sara. Oliver was keenly aware of how useless he would become if, God forbid, he encountered Felicity bloody and broken and _gone_.

No. He couldn't go there, even in a passing thought.

"If you're both alright with it, so am I." He said as he squared his shoulders, looking to Sara inquiringly. Sara's answering nod of assent was all the confirmation he needed as he spun on his heel, leaving the two sisters to say goodbye privately. "Then we leave in five minutes. I'd suggest suiting up." He recommended pointedly to Sara, who smirked knowingly.

"Shouldn't you wait for first light-" Laurel began, only to be cut off.

"Felicity might not have until first light. Five minutes. And then we go." Oliver repeated firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.


	6. Chapter 6

"Ollie! Ollie, hold up!" There was a moment's delay between the call and the hand that landed on Oliver's shoulder, spinning him to face her so as to halt his hasty retreat out of the mansion and out onto the grounds of the Queen estate. Sara had apparently used his five minute time frame to change into the black leather that had become her Canary costume, though she'd forgone the wig. Staring at him from behind her mask, she frowned at him, offering up a black rectangular box and a pair of walkie talkies.

Arching his brows uncomprehendingly at her, she heaved a sigh and rolled her eyes, grasping at his backpack as she jammed the box inside.

"The walkies are for us, in case we get separated."

"And the box?" He asked incredulously, staring at the seemingly ancient thing in wonder.

"It's a CB radio; Lyla thinks we might be able to communicate with it. She's going to keep broadcasting from her little command center and we have to check the signal every half hour as we go so she knows what kind of range she's got."

"We don't have time for side projects, Sara. We need to find Felicity-"

"Hey! I know. But this? This could help with that. If Felicity really is trying to get communications up and running wherever she is, we might be able to talk with her on this." Sara gestured, giving him a good natured shove once the backpack was zipped up and they had resumed walking.

He nodded tersely, trying to relax; Sara was right. The more modes of communication at their disposal, the better. Felicity was a tech genius – literally – and she could choose any number of ways to try and get word to them. Best to try and cover all their bases.

Besides, the very idea that a silly little hand radio could suddenly crackle to life with Felicity's voice? That thought had him more than a little anxious, and more hopeful than he cared to dwell on.

"So, where to first?" Sara inquired as they trekked across the sweeping entryway to the Queen estate. Sara turned as though to keep walking down the drive but Oliver altered course, turning instead towards the garage.

"Ollie?"

He was silent but motioned for her to follow after him as he led the way through the garage and to the black SUV that sat parked and waiting, unused since the outbreak had begun. He'd avoided using vehicles since narrowly rescuing Digg and Lyla from the hospital; the city streets were so clogged with other vehicles, debris, and the infected that navigating them was sometimes impossible.

But he didn't know what kind of state Felicity was going to be in and if she had a group, they might need to get them all out and quickly.

"You drive." He murmured, tossing Sara the keys as he instead went to fetch his bike. This way they had one vehicle that could take some beating while still getting a group of people to safety quickly, and one that could maneuver through tight spaces and beat a hasty retreat for one – or two, if the occasion called for it.

"We're going to the Glades, to the apartment where Felicity left her message for us. We'll start a search radius outward from there." He explained as his bike roared to life beneath him. "Follow me." He yelled over the sound, hunching over the bike as he spurred it into motion.

He wasn't coming back until he'd found Felicity, for better or worse.

\-----

The fluorescent lights gave another flicker and Felicity rubbed her temples, fighting off the headache she was getting from the constant flashing of the lights overhead. It was practically a freaking strobe light in here. Not exactly great for a girl's eyesight, or her state of mind.

 _Focus_.

They were in a hallway of an apartment that could potentially be crawling with the infected. She really couldn't stand to let her guard down now. Squaring her shoulders, Felicity focused on following the Captain. Lance led the way as they tiptoed down the hallway, empty save for debris that spoke of the hurried exit the previous occupants had made. When they reached the first apartment door he made eye contact with her and motioned for her to wait behind him.

He rapped on the closed door gently and pressed an ear to the door to listen. Several terse seconds went by, Felicity clutching the police baton that he had given her tightly before he stepped back and nodded.

"I can't hear anything. You up for this, Miss Smoak?" He inquired and she nodded faintly, still holding the baton aloft.

"Sure. What's a little B&E on top of murder charges, right?" She inquired and he chuckled at her as his hand fell to the handle.

"That's the spirit."

The door had apparently not been locked because it came open easily, though it offered a cringe-worthy, high pitched creak as it did so, making Felicity wince as she stepped inside behind the Captain. With his flashlight out before him, he swept the small living room quickly before closing the door behind them.

"Stay behind me and keep your eyes open." He muttered as he prowled deeper into the apartment, the beam of his flashlight falling over the ransacked kitchen but finding no sign of life there. Creeping forward, Lance gingerly opened the closet door and stepped sharply aside, relaxing when no person alive or dead came out of the space. Turning to backtrack, he tried the bathroom door next, yielding (thankfully) similar results.

Turning to the one remaining space in the apartment, Lance's hand fell on the bedroom door's handle as he made eye contact with Felicity.

"On the count of three." He explained, turning to focus on the door. "One…two… three!" He growled, throwing the door open.

A rattling breath preceded the blonde infected woman's appearance in Felicity's field of vision but she heard Lance's sharp intake of breath and saw him swing the metal pipe he'd been using as a weapon, his flashlight dropping to the floor.

"There's a second at your three!" He shouted to her and Felicity had enough time to register his words before a small shape came rushing at her. The old woman was hunched over even in death but she moved faster than she probably had in life, her hands grasping at Felicity as she shied away in fear.

Was she seriously supposed to bludgeon a little old lady with a police baton?

She didn't have time for the ensuing moral debate her own mind would have waged because at that moment the little old lady rushed her again, knocking her into the wall as her mouth came dangerously near to Felicity's right pinky finger.

Without another thought, Felicity was swinging her baton like her life depended on it because, well, her life _did_ depend on it. She delivered a strong blow to the old woman's face and from the crunching noise that the baton made as it collided she assumed she'd just broken the woman's nose.

That of course, wasn't going to be enough to stop her. Because easier to kill Vertigo freaks would apparently be too much to ask of this apocalypse.

Felicity swung the baton again to try and capitalize on the momentum of her previous hit, forcing the infected old woman to stagger back. Searching the apartment for something she could use, she grabbed up the tall lamp standing beside the bed, bludgeoning the woman across the face with one end of it and sending shards of light bulb and metal flying across the room. Then, using the jagged end of the lamp post, Felicity jabbed.

Like she was in some kind of weird modern day joust or some employee at a Renaissance Fair, she just literally _jabbed_ the thing with all her might. And lo and behold, on her third drive she was successful in plowing the metal pole through the woman's broken nose remains and through to her brain.

Great. Vertigo-infectee jousting skills. She'd add that to the resume.

Turning, she found Lance regarding her with amusement, having apparently just finished dispatching of the infected woman he'd been battling. Regarding the old woman's corpse, he stared at the lamp, nudging it with his toe.

"What?" Felicity asked between ragged breaths and he simply shrugged.

"Just admiring your ingenuity." 

Ingenuity wasn't exactly how she'd describe having just killed an infected old woman with a lamp stand but Felicity wasn't about to argue with him. Stooping to pick up his flashlight, Felicity handed it back to the Captain before she walked out of the bedroom and back into the living room, surveying the sparsely furnished apartment with tired eyes.

She went to the kitchen first, opening the cupboards to find the shelves were sparsely stocked. Grabbing a can of spam from out of one, she surveyed it warily, her nose wrinkled in the slightest trace of disgust.

"Any food?" Lance asked as he deadbolted the front door and moved a chair from the kitchen table to jam the latch for good measure. Holding the can of spam aloft, Felicity continued perusing.

"Depends on your definition of 'food'." She replied glumly, setting the can on the counter as she withdrew another can, this time of cat food.

Great. Her choices were faux-meat or cat food.

A bit more digging yielded a few more cans of slightly more palatable food, as well as a box of stale crackers, a few bottles of water and a few other odds and ends. On the whole, it wasn't much but it would keep their stomachs full until they could clear more apartments on this floor.

They holed up in the living room, having left the corpses of the two infected women in the bedroom rather than attempt moving them. Lance insisted that she take the couch and despite her protests, he had simply taken a cushion and propped himself up in the corner of the room, staring at the front door pointedly.

In terms of weapons, they'd come up empty handed and so Lance had resorted to breaking the legs off of the chairs from the dining set. While Felicity was tapping away at her tablet and trying to take stock of the network's state of affairs, he sat sharpening the chair leg into a point. It made her think of movies where old men living in small towns passed the time whittling wood while sitting in rocking chairs on their porches. Except usually in the movies, they were whittling cute little animal wood carvings or whistles or similarly harmless things. And instead, Lance was whittling a crude spear of sorts.

Not really the same, comforting feeling there.

"Any luck?" He asked after perhaps an hour (or two? She wasn't really sure) had passed, breaking the (relatively) comfortable silence that had grown between them as the night had worn on and they had both been unable to sleep. Pushing her glasses up on top of her head, Felicity rubbed her eyes wearily and shook her head before pinching the bridge of her nose.

"None so far." She sighed, squinting angrily at her tablet's screen as she tried yet another attempt at getting a signal of some sort, once more without success.

"You're telling me we can't communicate with anyone?" Lance asked bitterly and Felicity held up a single finger for a moment to shush him before quickly returning that hand to her tablet's keyboard as she tapped away dutifully.

"I'm saying that the power outages are seriously limiting my ability to communicate because -" she paused, looking at the Captain critically as she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "You don't speak tech, do you?" She asked and he regarded her with raised brows as he gave a slow shake of his head that said he was plainly not amused.

Well. She had to ask. It would have been rude to just assume.

"Basically the network provider is down. So it doesn't matter that we have power, or that the Arrow likely has power. Trying to hop on the internet and send an email or instant message him isn't an option."

"So what do we do?" Lance asked nervously, his arms crossed before him as he tried to wrap his head around what she was telling him. "We've got to get word to him somehow. We're not gonna last long in this place, power or no." He grunted.

As if she needed reminding.

"I can utilize some low bandwidth internet but I don't know how long it will last or how reliable it is. But I can probably use it for packet radio communications. I just have to find the right wavelength to transmit on…" She trailed off and began fiddling, only dimly aware of Lance's mystified look.

"Was that your attempt at non-tech speak? Because I gotta say, I didn't follow."

"I'm going to try kicking it internet old school, circa the 90's. Well… technically you could even make an argument for the 70's and 80's too. But long story short, kicking it old school." She offered by way of explanation and Lance didn't press her any further for details, content to sit and sharpen the broken chair leg into a spear point until Felicity looked up from her work, fixing him with an owlish look.

"Do you know morse code?"

His look of disbelief made it plain that he felt insulted she felt the need to even ask. Oops.

"Okay, stupid question I guess. Anyway - I'm going to need a radio's vibrator piece and some ignition coils. And an antenna – the bigger the better." She explained hurriedly, tapping away at her tablet enthusiastically as a plan began to finally take shape in her mind.

It was a long shot; that much was certain. But it was better than nothing.

\-----

It was roughly noon the next day when John passed by Roy as they patrolled the mansion. John knew that Oliver had thought his family home a more defensible position than the hospital in the city and while that was true, the former Army special forces officer couldn't help but loathe the vulnerable nature of the building in general.

Too many windows, too many entry points, too much square footage to try and defend when there were so few of them and so poorly armed. Sure, they had a wealth of arrows but that only did three of them any good.

"Anything?" He asked Roy as they met in the entryway of the mansion. Roy was in his Arsenal outfit still and John didn't exactly blame him – being covered in leather from head to toe afforded unparalleled protection against being bitten or scratched. If he had a suit of his own, he'd have been donning it too. As it was though, he had to settle for his black leather jacket and regular old jeans.

"I took out one on the perimeter of the grounds but otherwise, it's been silent." Roy answered darkly and John knew that the killing didn't come easily to the young man. Nodding, he passed a hand over his face.

"That's the fourth one that's wandered up this far in the last twenty four hours."

"Do we tell him?" Roy asked, his voice taking on a hesitant, nervous edge. They hadn't told Oliver about the recent advances by the infected. John had known that the moment they told him, Oliver would be in the impossible position of having to choose between leaving them to possibly fight the infected without him, or leaving Felicity to possibly fight the infected without any of them.

And that wasn't a position they wanted him in. They would all be better off once Felicity was found. So they'd kept quiet about the sparse intrusions and had kept the bodies piled amongst the trees just past the edge of the Queen estate. They could tell Oliver later.

"No. Let him focus on finding Felicity. If it gets worse, we'll try radioing him." John stated firmly, shaking his head as he turned to peer out the windows.

_When had life gotten this difficult?_

"Have we heard from Oliver or Sara on the CB radio?" Roy asked and Diggle nodded, coming back to the present and abandoning some of his gloomy thoughts.

"Lyla got a transmission from them about fifteen minutes ago. The signal was starting to get pretty bad though; not sure how much longer we'll have contact with them."

Roy nodded, plucking absentmindedly at the cable of his compound bow as the two men stood in companionable silence. Roy had been furious when he found out Oliver had left to go back to the city without him and John knew that there had been more than a little sting to the news when he'd learned Oliver had taken Sara in his stead.

"They're going to be okay, Roy." He stated gently and Roy nodded with a little huff.

"Yeah. Of course. They're just going into a city full of the infected, to one of the worst infection centers, grasping at straws." He grunted, fiddling with the stabilizer bushing of his bow to avoid looking John in the eye.

He was worried, John knew. He was too.

"I don't _want_ her to be dead… He knows that, right?" Roy asked and John nodded, quickly putting a hand on Roy's shoulder to reassure him.

"Of course he knows that."

"I just… I don't want to lose him in the process of looking for her and he… he can't see straight where she's concerned." Roy stated, trying to keep his voice controlled as he tried to rationalize his point of view for John.

"I get it man, I do. But just think of it like this. If it were you, and it was Thea who was out there… Would you be able to see straight?" John asked, watching as Roy's head fell and he gave a sad little shake as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

"They'll find her. And they'll be back. We just gotta hold down the fort until then." John reassured, taking the hand on Roy's back and patting him once before he turned Roy toward the kitchen, thinking that the kid could use a stiff drink (even if it wasn't anywhere close to five o'clock somewhere), when a sudden whoop from the floor above brought him up short.

"Hey guys!" Lyla's voice rang with excitement as she called from the study, prompting John to practically sprint up the stairs to meet her, Roy following after him sharply. Standing in the doorway with their daughter in one arm, she waved him inside, only to be quickly joined by Laurel and Roy.

"It's low-tech… Seriously old school. But I think Felicity is sending us a message." Lyla explained animatedly as she led them to the computer and pulled up the minimized window. "I think she's using packet radio and using our station as a bulletin board and her station as an operator station." Though Lyla seemed to understand, the others only looked at each other blankly.

"Meaning…?" Roy trailed off, his voice lilting hopefully.

"I think we have a general location on where to find Felicity." Lyla breathed, grinning widely at the others and watching as relief crashed over John.

"Are you sure it's her?" John asked, feeling not so much skeptic but rather, afraid to rekindle hope when thus far, each flicker of hope had been for naught. Smiling up at him, Lyla answered him with a nod and he leaned forward enthusiastically to kiss her, eliciting a surprised huff as she tried to adjust the baby in her arms without jostling her.

"Lyla, you're a damn genius." He whispered and she looked up at him with bright eyes, her nose crinkling in amusement.

"I thought we agreed to no swearing in front of the baby?" She teased and he smirked at her.

"Swearing while proclaiming your genius is the exception to the rules." He explained and she quickly picked up on his train of thought.

"My genius and I are honored to be the exception."

"This is great and all guys, but don't we need to kinda… tell Oliver and Sara?" Laurel asked hesitantly and Lyla spun in her rolling chair to face Laurel, nodding in agreement.

"We do; here's hoping that CB radio I gave them has some fight in it – we're probably pushing it's maximum range."

\-----

"I repeat, Foundry can you hear me? This is Songbird and Archer, we are 10-1. Over." Sara enunciated clearly as she knelt over the CB radio, the mouthpiece in her hands as she tried to make contact with their friends back in the mansion.

"Sara, you haven't been able to get a clear message to or from them for the last five minutes. I think we're beyond the radius that this old thing can transmit." Oliver grumbled from the opposite end of the roof where he sat, his feet dangling over the edge. He had spent the night tossing and turning as he tried and failed to sleep, and had resorted to staring at the overturned stereo that, when he and Roy had been here last, had been playing Felicity's message on loop.

The stereo was silent now. Instead, all he could hear was the crackling static as Sara fought with the CB radio, trying desperately to make contact with Lyla and her command center (which had apparently been given the codename 'Foundry').

"Foundry, this is Songbird. We are going 10-10. No sign of Smoking Gun." Sara transmitted with a sigh before setting down the CB radio and walking over to the edge of the roof to join Oliver.

"'Smoking Gun'?" He asked, the barest undercurrent of amusement in his tone.

"Felicity's call sign; I thought it was clever." Sara grinned sheepishly as she stared out at the streets below. Without Felicity's message on the stereo, the massive herd that Oliver had described had now scattered, though there were still plenty of the infected left on the streets to make movement dangerous.

"Make sure you tell her that when we find her." Oliver murmured as he stiffly rose to his feet and stretched, watching the sun glint off the rooftops of the Glades.

"Where do you want to start?" Sara inquired, following after him while giving her bo staff a thoughtful spin to burn off some of her nervous energy. Oliver surveyed the sea of buildings around them as he tried to come up with some semblance of a plan. It felt like they were searching for a needle in a haystack and he had no idea what would be the most efficient, systematic way of going about that.

They just needed a sign, a little nudge in the right direction. Felicity had left them one breadcrumb; had she left them another?

"Songbird, Archer" Lyla's voice rang out suddenly from the CB radio, followed immediately by a loud static that crackled and popped across her words, skipping out some of the content of her message. "-contact" _crackling, crackling crackling,_ "northeast quadrant adjacent to" _crackle pop hiss_ , "top floor" _snap buzz pop,_ "immediate extraction. Over."

"Did you copy that?" Oliver asked hurriedly and Sara shook her head as she twiddled at the controls of the radio, fiddling with the tuner and growling in frustration when the signal only worsened instead of improving.

"Foundry this is Songbird. We are 10-9, do you copy? Over."

"Foundry, we do not copy you, repeat message. Over."

"Foundry? Come in Foundry this is Songbird. Over."

Sara continued to try for several minutes more, to no avail. Oliver, however, was hastily prepping a zipline arrow with single minded focus. When Sara looked up and saw him she rose quickly, marching over to him and putting a hand on his bow to halt him.

"Woah, Oliver what do you think you're doing?"

"Lyla's message mentioned the northeast quadrant. We have to assume she means of the Glades. She might have picked up a transmission from Felicity." He reasoned, sidestepping Sara to avoid her arm's reach as he continued prepping his arrow. Following after him, Sara put her hands on her hips and stood in front of him.

"So what? You're going to go running off half-cocked on a zip-line?"

"Have you got a better plan?" He asked through clenched teeth, in no mood for delays.

"Yes. Let's come up with a plan of attack! What building do we check first, how are we going to conduct our search? Are we doing a room by room, floor by floor sweep? How do you want to do this? You can't just go charging in or you're going to get yourself killed. And that won't do anyone any good – least of all Felicity." Sara reminded him and he had to admit that she was right.

Together, they formed a hurried plan. Building by building, they would do a swift, cursory sweep. They'd expose themselves to potential danger as little as possible. They'd simply go up and down the halls and call out for Felicity. If they didn't see signs of her or receive an answer to their calls, they'd move on. Hopefully they'd locate her faster this way. If, however, they swept the quadrant with no sign of her, they would have to double back and repeat the sweep, this time going room by room and clearing them all until they found her.

The thought alone was exhausting but Oliver didn't care; he was hell bent on finding her and if this was how they did that, so be it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is a longer chapter than usual but I hope you all enjoy! I'm already working on the next chapter and hopefully it'll go up soon. In the meantime, enjoy the nail biter that is this update!!

"Any luck?"

Captain Lance sounded haggard and she couldn't honestly blame him; he'd slept perhaps a collective few hours since they'd teamed up, snatching a few minutes here and there. He'd spent his time since they arrived in the apartment whittling the legs of the kitchen table and chairs into sharpened points that looked like miniature spears. He'd even gone on his own and cleared the apartment next door to the one they currently occupied. The results of his efforts had been few – the neighboring apartment had been similarly cleared of most food stuffs and was similarly lacking any weapons.

 Felicity had spent the day awake, not even managing cat naps as Lance had done; instead she'd clutched her little tablet to her chest all day long. She'd only moved to plug her tablet in when its battery had gotten low, uttering a quiet prayer of thanks to the solar panels that were still providing the building with a minimal amount of power. The rest of the day she'd spent frantically trying to get a message out into the ether so that Oliver and the others that (she hoped) were with him might be able to pick up on her transmissions.

The results were, at best, unclear.

"I don't know." She answered honestly, stifling a yawn as she pushed her glasses up atop her head so she could rub her bloodshot eyes. "I've tried sending out the Morse code message, I've tried breaking into different radio frequencies. I used packet radio to send out a message. The network is almost completely useless. I'm not sure if any of it went out." She admitted truthfully, leaning against the wall and staring at the outlet her tablet was plugged into. How much longer power would last with night coming on, she wasn't sure; it would depend on how much the solar panels had banked in the energy reserves. They might be out of luck on the electricity front until morning though.

Felicity wasn't sure what more she could do and that fact alone had her hanging her head in defeat. They had power in an apocalypse and she was still somehow failing to do the one thing she was supposed to be good at. If she couldn't be a tech genius to the rescue, what good was she?

"You said he'd look for you. If any of your messages got out there, we just have to hope he heard them." Lance murmured encouragingly as he walked over to kneel before her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. Felicity looked up at him with a weak smile which the Captain reciprocated as he slid an opened can of green beans into her hands.

"It's not much of a meal, but it's better than cat food." Lance offered as he reclined against the wall beside her, proffering a fork which she accepted with a quiet 'thank you'. Glancing over at him, she saw he was working on the can of spam she'd found earlier.

 _Because that was great for his heart_.

"You know, you're going to get me in trouble." Felicity commented in a husky voice as she poked at the green beans before fixing him with a serious stare. "Laurel will have my head on a spike if she finds out I let you eat all of this junk. This-" Felicity murmured, tapping his steaming can of spam with the end of her fork, "is totally the opposite of heart healthy." In answer, Lance gave her a small grin and nodded before he hung his head to stare at the can in his hands.

"I was supposed to meet her. Laurel." He amended as he glanced at Felicity before bringing his gaze back to the can. Sighing heavily, he passed a hand over his face, clearly struggling with whatever it was he was about to say. Impulsively, Felicity put a hand on his forearm for comfort. Patting her hand gently, he took a deep breath and continued.

"She said that Sara was back in town. That she had someplace safe to take us. I was supposed to meet up with them and we'd all go together."

Lance shifted beside her, clenching his can of food so tightly his knuckles went white.

"I didn't go… The force was trying to evacuate apartment buildings and I stayed to help. It didn't work though… the place got overrun. Barely anyone made it out. It was a blood bath. I barely survived it myself. That's how I wound up in the Glades, in the building where I found you." He fell silent then, staring hard at the spam as Felicity watched him, seeing in the worn lines of his face how much the last few days, the last _week_ , seemed to have aged him.

"If anything happened to my girls because I didn't show up for them when I should have? …I'll never forgive myself." Lance whispered, his voice breaking with the weight of his emotions.

"Captain, no you can't blame yourself. Laurel and Sara? They would be proud of you! You stayed behind to help people in need."

"My girls were people in need."

"Your daughters are some of the most capable women I have ever met and they are generally the least in need of rescue. If Sara had somewhere safe for them to go then I'm sure they're there now, waiting for you."

"And if they aren't?" He asked, his voice hoarse and Felicity knew that much and more depended on her answer to this question. She only hoped she wasn't overstepping her bounds in answering it.

"If they aren't, then the Arrow will help us find them after he finds us." She assured him, squeezing his hand comfortingly before she pulled away to give him his space, nibbling at the overly salted green beans in her can of food. Lance was silent for a while, sitting alongside her as he stared seemingly into space, processing what she'd said. And then…

Before she could say anything of greater comfort to him, a sudden, loud noise from outside of the apartment had them both on their feet. Wordlessly, Lance rushed to the front door, staring out of the peep hole before backing away quickly, one finger pressed to his lips to silence her.

As he rejoined her, he whispered in her ear, his voice low and harried.

"There are infected outside the door. I couldn't tell how many, but there are definitely more than one." He informed her, fumbling with his homemade chair leg spears before he pressed one into her hand. "We have to stay quiet; they might move on." He explained and Felicity nodded, swallowing nervously as she held onto the pointy piece of wood in her hands.

 _The police baton felt way more stable than this_. Of course it did. The baton was meant for hitting things. This? This cheap piece of wood was definitely not meant for plunging into people's brains. _Oh god_. They were so woefully unprepared to handle an attack from a horde of the undead right now. She wasn't sure what was more terrifying – that they were unprepared, or that being prepared would mean they would have discovered an arsenal of weapons in someone's home.

Neither was exactly comforting but she knew she'd have felt a lot better if she had, say, a bat? Or a medieval mace, maybe a sword, if she was going to start thinking up medieval weaponry _and this was so seriously not the time_.

Another loud thud made Felicity jump and the front door rattled beneath the pressure of the blow. _This is so not good_. Why were the infected suddenly zeroing in on them? They had kept their voices low, they weren't moving around a lot or making a lot of noise so what had drawn them to the apartment? And where had they come from? And how many were there? Seemingly following her train of thought, Lance glanced around, his eyes landing on his Spam.

 _"Shit_. They must be able to smell the meat… I heated it up in a bowl in the microwave first." He explained apologetically, looking at her with wide, guilty eyes. The infected slammed against the front door again and once more it trembled and shook beneath the force of it. Before they had a chance to form anything resembling a plan of attack, the door rattled again and the top right corner seemed to sag for a moment before another _'boom'_ sounded as the infected hit the door again and it flew open.

 _Oh bad. Bad bad BAD_.

They poured in like floodwater and even with her limited understanding of combat Felicity knew they were too vastly outnumbered. Lance was able to take down one but he quickly was backing up and kicking at the infected as they came rushing in.

How many were there? She could see over half a dozen in the apartment with more out in the hallway. _So bad._

Hurrying back to her, Lance gave her a shove, to move her out of range of a wild grab from one of the infected and then he was hustling her backwards towards the bedroom. A loud sound seemed to tear apart the air and it was only then that Felicity became distantly aware of the fact that Lance had drawn his gun and was now firing into the crowd of oncoming infected.

 _That's not good_. The gunfire would only draw more of them.  _So very bad_. 

"GET IN THE BEDROOM!" He yelled at her, forcing her backward. Scrambling, she did as he directed, snatching her tablet up off of the couch as she rushed past. She slammed against the closed bedroom door before her hands scrabbled at the handle and she threw the door open, stepping aside for Lance to follow suit and then they both threw their weight into closing the door. The infected hit the other side, trying to push the door open but they just managed to close the door and Lance flicked the lock deftly.

Even closed and locked though, the door wasn't going to buy them much time. Already the infected were beating against it and it was rattling in a similar fashion as the front door had. _Frack._ One second all had been well and now they were about one and a half inches of rickety door from becoming Vertigo chow. Breathing heavily, Lance began to rush forward, grabbing up the wooden dresser shoved in one corner of the room.

"Help me move this!" He directed and Felicity hurried to join him as they drug the piece of furniture in front of the bedroom door. "That'll only slow them down." He panted, looking wildly around the room but he saw the same thing Felicity did – a room with no means of escape.

Threading his hands through his hair, the Captain paced nervously as the infected pounded on the door outside, reminding them of how little time they had before this room too was breached.

" _Come on, come on…_ " He muttered to himself, trying to think of something without success. It was then that Felicity walked to the far wall, her fingers pressed to her temples.

"You cleared the apartment next to us, right?"

"Yeah but that doesn't exactly do us any good right now. Clearly I should have cleared wherever the hell those things came from." Lance growled, motioning to the closed and barricaded door as he tried to think of a solution. Felicity, however, was smiling faintly as she walked to the far wall, tapping it lightly with her fingers.

"Captain, the walls…. They're thin. We can break through them." She explained animatedly, prompting Lance to lift his head and eye her in wonder.

"You… you want to _break through the wall_?"

"Definitely."

The Captain stalked forward and grabbed up the small nightstand beside the bed and before Felicity knew what was happening, he swung it into the wall, leaving a sizable dent in the plaster.

A few more forceful swings with the nightstand and the Captain was able to break through the plaster and soon he was sitting on the ground, kicking his feet to enlarge the hole he'd created. He scrambled through hurriedly but as Felicity bent to follow after him he stopped her up short.

"You stay here; cover up the hole with the nightstand and wait. I'm going to try and lure them away. When they're gone, you make a beeline for the roof. If they breach the room before I can lure them out, then crawl through to this apartment but for now wait here. I don’t want to take you out into a possibly more dangerous environment." The Captain explained as Felicity gawped at him.

"I'm not going to just leave you alone! You're outnumbered!"

"Yeah, but I'm also unencumbered. You come along and all I'm going to be thinking about is keeping myself between you and them. Trust me, it's better if you stay here." He directed and Felicity frowned.

"No way, Captain Lance I can-"

"You can get word to the Arrow. Work on doing that. We're going to need him sooner rather than later at this point."

Of course. Because she wasn't useful in the field; she just slowed people down. She was the behind the scenes girl, not the 'in the thick of the action' girl. Biting her lip, Felicity nodded, her features pinched with anger. She didn't like being left behind but she understood his reasoning, even if she disagreed with it.

"Be safe. And meet me on that roof." She demanded firmly. Lance met her gaze and nodded once, then disappeared from her field of view. Waiting a moment, she took a quavering breath and moved the nightstand back over the hole and sat down on the floor, staring at the blockaded door warily before she pulled her tablet into her lap and began tapping away nervously.

 _Please let this plan work_. Because if it didn't, they were both dead meat.

\-----

They'd spent the day searching and thus far there'd been no sight of Felicity, a fact which had Oliver in what could only be described as a foul mood. The storm rolling in had blackened out the skies earlier than the sun would have naturally set and so they'd lost even more precious search time thanks to that.

"We have to split up." He muttered suddenly, interrupting the quiet that had fallen between the two of them as he and Sara had sat on an abandoned apartment's balcony. Sitting up, Sara stared at him with wide eyes that quickly narrowed in anger.

"No. Ollie, we've been through this-" She began, only to be interrupted as he held up a hand to silence her.

"Hear me out. You go back to the point where we had our last clear broadcast from the Foundry. Get a more exact idea of where they think Felicity is. I'll continue searching. I'll just do reconnaissance. I won't engage. I just… I can't leave. Not if she's here." He explained morosely, looking up to find the anger had dissipated form Sara's eyes.

"Alright. I'll go." She said softly and Oliver blinked at her in surprise.

"Just like that? I was expecting more of a struggle."

"Just like that." Sara assured, sitting up and shouldering her gear quickly. "I know that Felicity is really important to you and I know that not knowing where she is has you torn up inside. So I'll go. But Ollie? If you get into trouble while I'm gone, I _will_ kick your ass." She warned and he gave a low chortle and a bob of his head.

"Deal. No trouble." He promised, rising to encompass her in a tight hug before she left, his hands on her shoulders as they pulled apart. "Thank you, Sara." He said in nearly a whisper and she gave him a toothless smile and a nod.

"Of course. Anything to help find Felicity." She murmured before she hopped off of the balcony with practiced ease and began to make her way back in the direction from which they'd initially come.

With Sara gone, Oliver was hard pressed to sit still but keeping in mind his promise to avoid trouble, he made his way to the roof of the building and from that vantage point, he surveyed the Glades, looking for something, _anything_ that could help him locate Felicity.  It wasn't until his second circuit of the roof that he noticed it but the moment that he did, he felt his entire world narrow to a pinprick.

In one of the apartments that he and Sara had not yet swept, he could see lights on in one of the units. By day, he hadn't noticed, the lights (if they'd been on then) not having shown up in the light of day. But now, in the dark and storming gloom of night, he could see the light blazing, plain as day.

_Felicity had said she was working to restore power. What if this was the building she'd been referencing? What if he was staring at the very room she was in right now, desperately trying to make contact with him?_

The possibilities had him already debating breaking his promise to Sara - if he could see the lights, then so could the infected and they'd be drawn to it, just as they were to sound. He was still contemplating what to do when suddenly there was a crackle of static that sent him jumping, having forgotten that Sara had left the CB radio with him in his pack. After the static had cleared though, what followed made his heart leap.

 _"My name is Felicity Smoak. I'm in the Glades, in the Union Avenue Apartments_. _Ah- Unit 712._ _If anyone can hear this please… please come help. We're trapped and I d-don't think we have long. We have power and basic communications. Please… send help."_

Felicity's voice went silent as quickly as it had crackled to life but already Oliver was running for the edge of the building, fumbling in his bag for the night vision goggles he'd thrown in amongst his supplies. Fishing them out, he stared at the building where he'd seen the lights, his heart hammering in his chest as he read the complex's name.

 _Union Avenue Apartments_.

Oh god.

Without any regard for the promise he'd made to Sara, he wrenched a grappling hook arrow from his quiver and fired it off, already envisioning how best to zipline onto the roof of the building in question.

"I'm coming Felicity." He growled before he plunged off of the edge of the building, the wind and rain whistling in his ears as he rushed toward the apartment complex.

\-----

 "Come on, baby." She whispered as the tablet once more flashed it's 'low battery' warning sign at her. She'd managed to break into a few radio frequencies and send out a desperate plea for help but whether or not anyone had heard her, Felicity didn't know.

"Please, please, please." She begged in an undertone but in answer, the tablet's screen went blank as it shut itself down. Shutting her eyes, Felicity leaned her head back against the wall, fighting back tears as she tried to collect herself. Before she could, however, a sudden splintering sound had her jerking her head up to look. She was just in time to see the dresser they'd used to blockade the bedroom door wobble, the drawers rattling as the infected broke through the door and slammed into the dresser.

Shoving aside the nightstand, Felicity tossed her dead tablet ahead of her and then dove through the hole in the wall, yelping as something sliced deep through her left shoulder. As she scrambled into the neighboring apartment's bedroom, she reached back into the room she'd just left and dragged the nightstand to cover the hole and then, her tablet forgotten, she rushed into the bathroom and shut the door behind her before she collapsed, hyperventilating, into the bathtub.

\-----

His boots crunched on the loose gravel on the rooftop, his fingertips brushing against the loose substrate until he straightened and looked around as the rain pelted down around him. He was used to operating in the dark. He could do this. This was just another night patrol, another night in vigilante paradise.

Except usually when he was on patrol, he had her voice in his ear, reassuring him. And as Felicity had once blundered 'it feels really good having you inside of me'. Namely her voice. In his ear. Without it he felt… _lost_. Without _her_ he felt lost.

Not for long.

"FELICITY!" He roared, his bow before him, an arrow nocked and ready as he prowled between the rows of solar panels. Only the rolling of the thunder and the pattering of the rain met his call though. When he had finished sweeping the roof he lowered his bow, stalking along the edge of the building until he found the rooftop access door.

She was inside. Of course she wouldn't answer his call; she'd said in her message that they were stuck in one of the units. She'd be in unit 712; that was where he would find her. She was there.

She had to be.

His own self preservation instincts screamed at him to go slow, to be cautious and look before he leapt. But the fearful hammering of his heart knew no such safety precautions, aware only of the fact that she was close at hand and in imminent danger. Without checking for signs of movement (living or undead) he threw the roof access door open, his bow and arrow once more raised.

Lightning flashes illuminated the first few feet of the hallway but nothing more, so he quickly grabbed up a flashlight from his bag, shining it about as he crept deeper into the building.

What he found was far from reassuring.

Bloody handprints were smeared across the walls of the hallway, seemingly focused on one door which now stood ajar, half hanging off of its hinges. Inching forward, he looked for the number on the apartment door, praying that it wouldn't be 712.

He was not so fortunate as all that.

The dulled bronze numbers on the broken door showed him he had found the right apartment unit, though whether that reality was comforting or terrifying, he couldn't decide. Oliver cleared his mind as best he could, focusing on the rhythmic beating of his heart as he rounded the corner at the same moment as a poorly timed lightning flash.

A dozen or more of the infected were inside of the apartment, clustered around the door on the back wall of the apartment. The place was in shambles, broken glass and upturned furniture strewn about, undoubtedly the results of a struggle of some kind – the kind of struggle that implied someone living had been in here – and recently.

The crackle of his boots on the glass shards drew the attention of the infected and as they turned to face him, he exhaled in relief when none of them wore familiar faces. With great finesse, he put down four with fatally accurate arrows before he had to resort to hand to hand combat with the remaining lot. He backed out of the apartment and back up to the roof so he could funnel them into a more narrow space (all the easier to dispatch of them). In short order, he'd put them all down and had wasted no time in reclaiming the arrows he'd spent in that endeavor.  

Once more in the apartment, he approached the closed door around which the infected had been clustered, now able to see that they'd broken down the door and had been slowed only temporarily by a furniture blockade. Pressing his shoulder to it firmly, Oliver applied pressure to the dresser and with a sharp creak, he was able to push it out of his way enough to sidle into the room beyond.

The room was dark as he stepped into it, tentatively directing the beam of his flashlight in a single sweep across the area. As he did so, he saw the dark shapes of two women's' bodies. One of which was a _blonde_ woman.

 _Please, no_.

He couldn't have come this far, come this close, only to be too late. She couldn't be lying, face down on the floor in some shabby apartment, blood pooled beneath her body. His eyes swept once more over the body, the hair the right shade of blonde and the right length to be her.

 _No_.

He was shaking as he stepped forward, kneeling down beside the body and rolling it gently, fear clawing at his guts and threatening to make him vomit. But when the body turned enough for him to see the face, the glow from his flashlight revealed a badly mutilated face, bludgeoned beyond recognition. It wasn't until he saw the tattoo on the woman's arms that his figure sagged with relief.

He set the woman's body back down quickly, the tattoo having banished his worst fear. His Felicity bore no such tattoo. This woman, with her sadly smashed in face, was not the woman he sought. And for that, he was immensely thankful.

Rising unsteadily, he swept the beam of the flashlight around the room and taking in the second corpse, this one of an old woman with a puncture wound through her nose, likely from a broken lamp on the floor beside her. _Someone put up quite a struggle here_. He continued sweeping the room with his flashlight, almost missing the hole in the wall. Mostly covered by a small nightstand, he could see a jagged hole where someone had apparently broken through the thin walls and made a convenient escape route out of the apartment he now occupied, and into the neighboring one.

But even as he surveyed the hole, his stomach turned uneasily as he took in the bloody handprints around it, the prints too small and delicate to likely belong to a man. Someone had escaped from this apartment, likely when it was overrun. And whoever they were, they hadn't escaped unscathed.

The question was just how badly scathed were they?

\-----

 _Breathe_. She reminded herself as she sat curled up in the bathtub, rocking back and forth as she tried to stop the hyperventilating that had started as she fled the apartment she and Lance had been sheltering in. She wasn't sure what should be the more pressing concern – the fact that she was so lightheaded from hyperventilating that she was on the verge of passing out, or the fact that she was bleeding. Like… _a lot._ She'd ripped her shoulder open pretty badly on the nail that had been jutting out of the wall she'd crawled through to get here.

Good thing she was up to date on her tetanus shot.

 _So not the time to be thinking of that._ She reminded herself numbly, pressing her right hand to the wound on her left shoulder to staunch the bleeding while she buried her face in the crook of her elbow, trying to breathe through the fabric of her long sleeved shirt to normalize her breathing. Felicity tried to focus on her breaths, fighting to slow her respiratory rate despite the racing of her heart and the adrenaline thundering through her veins. She felt like the thudding of her heart was acting like a clarion call, commanding every cell of her body to panic and run amok.

It took far longer than she cared to think about but bit by bit, her breathing normalized and the tremble in her hands eased, albeit only slightly.

"Okay, Felicity. You're going to be okay." She whispered to herself from her spot curled up in the tub, staring fearfully at the bathroom door.

How was she going to get out of here?

She had no idea where Lance had ended up in the chaos. Or if he was even still alive. If she was going to have any hope of finding him, she needed to move now. He could be in trouble and need help. Every minute she wasted was another minute he had to possibly get farther from her, and with every passing moment she was losing blood and using up precious, _limited_ energy and strength. And whether or not Lance was alive, Felicity wouldn't very well be if she sat still here for much longer. It wouldn't take the infected long to break through the dresser and given that she was covered in blood and probably smelled like an all you can eat buffet to them, they'd probably follow her through the hole in the wall, given enough time.

The fact that she didn't even have her police baton for protection now was just the cherry on top of the mountain of suck that her circumstances had become in the last few minutes.  

"Time to move." Felicity whispered to herself encouragingly, slowly clambering out of the tub and doing her best to ignore the small pool of her own blood that had collected at the bottom of it. She also ignored the fact that she had stepped in her own blood and was now leaving bloody footprints _everywhere_.

Because there were limits to what a girl's sanity could take. And Felicity was rapidly reaching her max quota for crazy right now. And bloody footprints? That was the kind of thing that could put a girl over the edge.

Quietly, she searched the vanity and the cabinets for anything useful and predictably, she came up empty handed. Not surprisingly; really, how many people kept weapons in the bathroom? Probably not many. Which would have been a good thing if the world wasn't now in a semi-apocalyptic state in which weapons were sort of a necessity.

Could she _make_ a weapon out of something? The shower head wouldn't do her any good; it was rusted and cheaply made; like as not, it would fall apart before she landed a single blow with it. That left what? A roll of toilet paper and a flimsy, small plastic trash can. Great.

"The toilet tank lid." She breathed softly in realization, hunching over the toilet in question and prying the heavy ceramic lid off with only a little difficulty. It was weighty and bulky, hardly an ideal weapon. But it was heavy enough to crush a skull if swung with enough force, especially if that was a downward force being combined with gravity.

It was the best she was going to do for now.

Steeling her nerves, she approached the bathroom door, exhaling deeply before she cracked it open, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw that no infected had crawled through the hole now connecting the two adjacent apartments. She was safe - for now.

_It's now or never, Felicity._

She opened the door and stepped outside of the bathroom, the toilet tank lid held before her like a shield as she crept out into the bedroom, eyeing the hole she'd punched in the wall nervously. There was no sound from the other side of the wall. Maybe the infected hadn't broken down the dresser barricading the door yet. Just as she was starting to think that maybe she wasn't in quite as imminent of danger as she'd thought, she heard the sound of something moving the nightstand covering up the hole from the other side of the wall.

_They were coming for her. They could smell her. Oh god._

Felicity nearly jumped out of her skin before she took off as quick as she dared, not even bothering to pick up her tablet as she fled the bedroom and slammed the door behind her, searching the apartment for something she could blockade the door with. There was a bookshelf and the couch, but both of those were too heavy; she'd make far too much noise trying to move them and by the time she actually did, the infected could be busting down the door on her.

 _Run_.

Her instincts screamed. She had to flee. If living was a question of fight or flight she was a 'flight' girl, no 'fight' option. At least, not in this scenario. Running for the front door, Felicity felt her fear overwhelming her, blind panic overriding logic as she flung the front door of the apartment open wide and started to step out into the hallway beyond, dimly recognizing the danger before her a moment too late.

And then, for the first time since this had all began, Felicity _screamed_.

\-----

He'd moved the nightstand to the side so he could investigate the hole in the wall with his flashlight, pausing only when he heard what sounded like a door closing. Turning behind him, he saw no movement, no source of the noise. Casting the beam of his flashlight through the hole and into the neighboring apartment beyond, he didn't see any motion but he knew what he'd heard.

Something was moving out there.

Tapping the end of his flashlight on the wall to draw out any infected, he let a few seconds pass for safety's sake. Convinced that the room he was about to enter was empty, he used his flashlight to carve out a few extra inches before he crawled through the hole, narrowly squeezing through – clearly a person smaller than him had punched this hole in the first place. The beam of his flashlight revealed a similar floorplan as the bedroom he'd just left, though the bloody footprints adorning the floor were not exactly his idea of tasteful décor. It was then that his eyes fell on the tablet lying in the center of the room and his heart skipped a beat. That was Felicity's tablet, he knew it was. 

 _Not good_.

He grabbed it up and shoved it into his bag, knowing she'd want it when he found her. Before he could further contemplate possible explanations for the bloody footprints that didn't involve her being injured though, he heard a sound that made his heart stop and his blood go arctic levels of cold. 

The scream was like something from a movie, the very definition of blood curdling and he was quite certain that in that moment, time stopped. He would have recognized her voice anywhere, even when screaming for dear life.

"FELICITY!" He roared, throwing himself across the room and hurtling into the closed door with a thud before he wrenched it open and raced through the empty apartment living room. The front door was ajar and from the lights flickering in the hallway beyond he could see a blood smear on the wall.

_No. No no no._

With his bow drawn, he flung himself into the hallway, nearly tripping over the corpse just outside the apartment door. The head on it had been flattened like a pancake and from the shattered bits of ceramic everywhere, whatever weapon Felicity had used to smash the infected person's skull? Well, it was broken now. The thunder boomed overhead, making it difficult to pick up on any sounds of struggle as he tried to determine which direction she'd gone.

"FELICITY!" He screamed again, just in time for a handful of the infected to come spilling out of an apartment near the stairwell to the lower levels of the apartment. Firing off arrows in rapid fire, he raced for the opposite end of the hall, praying that he was headed towards and not away from Felicity.


	8. Chapter 8

The moment she'd run haphazardly out into the hallway, everything had fallen apart.

She'd tripped as she ran out the door and struck her head hard on the floor. Momentarily dazed, she'd looked to see what had tripped her and found herself face to face with half of a human corpse. Everything from the torso down was missing but the infected man was still moving, writhing on the floor and using his hands and arms to drag his mangled body to her, his jaw opening and closing animatedly as he reached for her midsection, his fingers just brushing against her navel and snagging on the fabric of her shirt.

And in a thoughtless fit of fear, she'd _screamed_.

Felicity had scrambled quickly to her feet and without giving a second thought, she'd slammed her foot down on the man's skull once, then twice, and on the third strike she'd succeeded in smashing in his skull. The sight of it had made her retch though, and as she was spilling the limited contents of her stomach, more of the infected had come spilling out from the stairwell to the lower levels.

_The infected from the street?_ Or perhaps these were just infected people from the rest of the building? Whatever the case, she had plenty of reason to suspect there were more than two in that stairwell and she wasn't about to find out just how many more there were.

Heaving the toilet tank lid up over her shoulder, she'd swung violently at the first infected, an elderly man who was missing half of his face. His head had collided with the wall, leaving a bloody smear before his body fell at her feet, motionless. But the momentum of the swing tipped Felicity off balance and before she could catch herself, she'd dropped the toilet tank lid. The heavy ceramic had shattered into large shards.

Weaponless, she'd had no choice but to flee from the remaining infected woman, who was barreling towards her. Felicity made a beeline for the other end of the hallway, following it up a small set of stairs towards the roof access door, too terror stricken to contemplate why the door was open, admitting a constant stream of water into the building from the storm brewing outside.

She'd made it halfway up the stairs but the infected woman was hot on her heels and when she'd slipped on the water pooling on the steps, the woman had been upon her in moments. Her bloody hands grabbed at Felicity's legs, her breath rattling loudly as her teeth clacked repeatedly and her jaws worked open and closed. Kicking fearfully, Felicity managed to shake the woman off enough to crawl up the remaining steps.

_Just get outside. You can close the door on her_.

But then she'd be leaving Captain Lance trapped. What was she supposed to do? This was the very definition of a no-win scenario. But even as Felicity scrambled to her feet and tried to slam the roof access door closed, the infected woman's hand snaked out of the opening, jamming the door open as Felicity fought to keep herself out of the woman's reach.

Flattening her full weight against the door, Felicity's muscles screamed at her. Undernourished, sleep deprived, stressed, and afraid, she knew she wasn't likely to last long if this turned into a standoff. Her best bet was to throw the door open and then try to draw the infected woman to the edge of the building and shove her over the edge. It was brutal but certainly no more brutal than any of the other horrific acts Felicity had committed in the name of survival since awakening in the Foundry.

"Deep breath, Felicity. You are an MIT grad. You can totally do this." And now she was talking to herself. Out loud. _Nice._

So what if this wasn't a computer information or technology system? She had skills beyond tech. Tech was just her comfort zone. She could move a little beyond her comfort zone. Granted, hand to hand combat with the walking undead was more than 'a little' beyond what her comfort zone was but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, she affected the calmest state of mind she could and then, without warning, she threw herself away from the door.

A moment later, the door flung open with a bang as it hit the wall behind it and the infected woman came stumbling out onto the roof, blank eyes swinging about before settling on Felicity. With a fast, unsteady stride, the woman lurched Felicity's way, hands outstretched and fingers grasping.

So Felicity did as her instincts had begged of her earlier. She fled - right to the edge of the building, holding on tight to the raised concrete ledge as the infected woman hurtled her way. _It's just a game of chicken_. She just had to be the one to flinch – and at just the right moment.

And also, maybe she needed to remember some of the basic training Digg and Sara had given her.

When the woman's hands were a mere foot away, Felicity ducked to the right and spun so she was behind the infected woman, whose reflexes were much slower. Rushing forward, she rammed the infected woman in the back and as she watched, sent the woman tumbling over the edge of the building, her arms still reaching for Felicity as she disappeared over the edge.

Felicity didn't turn to watch the woman fall to the pavement below and she was thankful that the noise of the storm covered up the sound of the body hitting the ground. Instead, Felicity pulled herself onto her feet and hurried over to the access door, closing it with a hurried prayer that no other infected would follow and come barge down this door too.

It was only then, as the adrenaline began to fade, that she became aware of the fact that it was raining and that she was now soaked from head to toe, weaponless, and tablet-less. Her shoulder ached where the nail had shredded it and her recent activity had caused the wound to bleed anew. What she had initially thought to be rain on her face was actually rain mixed with blood from striking her head as she fled the apartment, and now that she looked, she was really coated in blood, some hers and some not. _That SO cannot be healthy._

Sliding down against the edge of the roof, Felicity curled into a ball, feeling woefully and horribly alone. And for the first time since this had all begun, the candle of hope that had been burning within her chest flickered with the beginnings of doubt.

_I should have stayed in the Foundry._

It had been her harebrained scheme that had brought her and Lance here in the first place. It had been her idea to go to the top floor, where she was now cut off from any chance of escape and where Captain Lance might be in similar, dire straits. Everything she'd suggested had put them in danger and had worsened their state of affairs and now?

Now she was alone, trapped on the roof of a building much too tall for her to get down on her own, surrounded by infected and with no supplies or weapons. And not only had she delivered herself (and Lance) to such a fate – which was bad enough – but she had also sent out multiple messages begging for help. She had pleaded for help and if help came and was killed trying to save them, their blood would be on her hands too.

It was too much.

Felicity was so lost in her self-directed anger and criticisms that she didn't hear the sound of the roof access door opening over the loud roar of the rainfall and the rolling booms of thunder. Nor did she hear the crunch of gravel as someone raced across the roof towards her location.

But what she _did_ hear was something so much more meaningful than any of that.

The soft, familiar purr of a nearby bowstring being pulled taut made her hear t leap and pound erratically in her chest and once more, hope roared up within her. She didn't dare to dream that it was him – how could it be him? Sure, the man had a knack for coming to her rescue but this? This would be pushing the limits. Nobody could be _that_ perfect in their heroic timing.

 And yet, she was entirely unwilling to accept any other possibility – no one else was going to be here, on this roof, holding a bow. No one but him.

Rising on unsteady feet, Felicity could feel her legs shaking beneath her and her breaths came in great loud gasps as she finally turned on her heel to face whoever it was that had joined her.

He was dressed from head to toe in his trademark green leather suit, the slim mask about his eyes hardly visible beneath the shadow of his hood. His bow was drawn with an arrow fitted to it, ready and waiting to fire. Despite his hood, she could just see his gaze was trained on her, and she shivered as she watched his eyes widen as he stared at her.

There were so many things she wanted to say to him, so many words left too long unspoken that desperately needed to be said aloud in the light of day. But words escaped her in that moment, her throat tight with emotion and her mind at a loss as she stared at him, glorying in the realization that he was _alive_ and he was _here_ and Felicity hadn't felt so safe since before she'd awoken into this apocalypse.

\-----

The oncoming rush of infected people had forced him down the hallway and back up the stairs to the roof, his hand flying to the handle and flinging the door open wide. He leapt into the rainy night, swinging his bow this way and that before lowering it so he could slam the door shut on the remaining infected inside. Looking around him once the door was secure, he felt a moment's relief at the realization that there was no sign of the infected here.

But there was also no sign of _her_.

His hands clenched into fists and he ground his teeth in anger, cursing himself for being too slow on the uptake. He should have noticed the lights on in the building sooner, should have checked this apartment building for her sooner, should have done _something, anything_ differently.

_I never should have left her in the Foudry_. He thought to himself, a litany of mental curses following after the thought. How could he have failed her so spectacularly?

A stray fork of lightning rent the sky at that moment and dimly, he saw the shape of a huddled figure in the far corner of the roof. Instantly on edge, he stalked forward and raised his bow once more, hesitating only as he drew near enough to see the finer details of the figure huddled in the rain.

Her hair was matted with blood, her head bowed low so he couldn't see her face. Her slender hands were stained red and as she lifted her face, he felt his heart stop.

_No_.

Felicity – _his Felicity_ – sat before him, looking positively… Well, 'bloody' didn't even begin to cover it. Blood was splattered across her face and smeared on her clothing, with a dark line of blood running from a cut along her hairline. The fabric of her shirt was rent at the shoulder and nearly black with blood from a wound that he could see went deep and was congealing. Her hands were coated in a layer of red, her shoes were painted in it; even her hair was flecked and matted in spots with blood, making her look almost strawberry blonde. It seemed to engulf her, ever y inch of her.

As she tottered onto unsteady feet, he felt his heart breaking in his chest, the realization that he had been mere minutes too late leaving him breathless.  

_She was infected._

He had not only failed his city, his family, his friends – he'd failed the woman that he loved. He'd failed _her_. Failed her in every way not only by leaving her, by failing to come for her in time, but failed her because even as he stared at her pale, bloodied face, he knew he didn't have the strength to end her, even if that might be what she would have wanted. He couldn't do it. Even if she might go on to infect others, how on _earth_ was he supposed to look into those devastatingly beautiful eyes and plunge an arrow through that equally beautiful mind?

_God help me but I can't._

There were limits to what a man could do. And Oliver had found his.

She reached out towards him, her hand grasping as she reached for his chest and he wrenched away, his heart breaking as he took a few steps back, staring at her through the tears forming in his eyes. His knees gave beneath him then and he sank gracelessly to the ground, still staring fixedly at her bloodied corpse as she reached for him.

"No." He croaked, batting away her hand halfheartedly, not able to muster the energy to fight her off in earnest. Oliver shook his head as a heavy wave of grief and self loathing, guilt, anger and above all _agony_ ripped through him. "Please no. Not you." He rasped, holding back sobs as he continued to stare at her. "I'm so sorry, Felicity. I never should have left you." He whimpered, his voice breaking as he said the words, wishing that she could have heard them, and not just the walking corpse of her that stood before him.

\-----

She'd been unable to do anything more than blink at him in awe, still not entirely convinced that he was _real_ and not just a figment of her imagination. At least, until everything seemed to fall apart. He'd shirked her touch, his face crumpling in anguish and his reaction left her feeling raw panic. _Why was he pulling away?_ When he fell to the ground she lurched forward as though to catch him, watching as he drew away from the contact.

_Oh_. So apparently physical contact with her was objectionable to him now? _That stings a little._ They'd always been okay with small physical interactions before; innocent shoulder touches and gentle brushes of a hand to a cheek or the like. Apparently not anymore.

Tears trailed down his face as he stared up at her and she was struck by how unfair it was that someone could look _that good_ while also looking so heartbroken and _this was so not the time to be ogling him._ She opened her mouth to say something to him but found herself at a loss for words and as she took a shaky, wheezing breath to collect herself, he spoke again.

"I was trying to protect her!" He screamed, raising his eyes skyward for a moment before dropping his gaze back to her. "And instead I failed. I failed you, Felicity. And I am so, so sorry." He panted through his tears, scrabbling away from her on his hands and knees when she took a step towards him.

" _Please no._ " He whimpered, shaking his head violently, his hands trembling even as the volume of his words rose. "NO!"

_He was going to draw every infected person for miles if he kept screaming his head off._

She held up both hands before her and stepped closer to him, this time not reaching for him but simply trying to move closer to him and he jerked violently away, still on his hands and knees as he tried to scuffle away from her.

_What?_ Why on Earth would he behave this way?

And then, like one of the bolts of lightning going off overhead, it struck her, sending a cold shiver down her spine and making her skin pimple with gooseflesh.

_He thought she was infected_.

And no small wonder why – she had more blood on her than she cared to consider, some of it her own and some of it the blood of the infected she'd killed. Her hair was a mess, her glasses askew, her clothing in shambles. This rainstorm was the closest thing to a shower that she'd had in… – _ooh. No. Better not go down that rabbit hole._

The point was, it was no wonder he thought she was one of the walking corpses roving the city. She certainly looked the part.

"O-Oliver!" His name fell from her lips, the only word she could seem to give voice to in that moment. Even to her own ears, her voice sounded wrong - hoarse and scratching her raw throat as she reached a hand out to him, her eyes questioning. She wanted to throw her arms around him and never let go but if he thought she was one of the infected then that probably wasn't a very wise course of action.

His eyes widened as he stared at her, the bow once more held aloft, the arrow nocked and ready to fly as he stared up at her from his vantage point on the floor, his mouth agape.

"N-No. You're dead. You're infected." He whispered.

"Oliver, I'm right here." She assured him, holding out a hand towards him and beckoning for him to take it. "I'm alive, see?" She promised, watching the internal struggle rage within him. When she wiggled all her fingers for emphasis of her very much 'alive' status though, he finally lowered his weapon and looked at her with a faint glimmer of hope.

"Felicity?" He gasped, his voice weak as he reached a hand out toward her extended palm. With a slow step forward, she grabbed his hand in hers and brought it to her chest, gently placing his palm over her heart so he could feel her heartbeat.

"You… You're _alive_?!"

"Alive and well… Relatively speaking." She added with a shaky smile as she helped him back onto his feet. That accomplished, she held his hand tight in one of hers while her other hand trailed up to cup his cheek.

"I-I thought I lost you… I thought…" He trailed off and she shushed him softly, making comforting noises in the back of her throat.

"Hey, it's okay. I know. I'm right here… It's me." She repeated, feeling him release a shuddering breath at her words as his arms came up to encircle her body, his palms pressing her tight against him in a warm embrace. She could feel his whole body shaking with the force of the sobs he was doing his best to hold back, though his cheeks were still wet with tears. Or rain? Both? _Focus, Felicity._ On a whim, Felicity lowered his hood and carded her fingers through his hair, doing her best to comfort him as he worked through whatever distress he'd been in. But despite her resolve to be a rock for him, she could feel the tears filling her eyes and sliding down her own cheeks as they embraced amid cracks of lightning and booms of thunder.

"I was beginning to get scared that I was never going to see you again." She confessed, pressing close to him and refusing to let go, instead speaking to the side of his face out of refusal to slacken her grip. Felicity was having trouble with the concept of letting him out of arm's reach _ever again._

"I was afraid I _would_ see you every time I saw a blonde infected woman… I was terrified that it was going to be you…" He shuddered, and she shivered at the implication. She couldn't even begin to imagine the kind of damage that would be done to a person's psyche if they were forced to kill someone they cared about (technically dead already or no). The very idea of confronting one of her loved ones if they were infected? No. She didn't want to consider it.

Oliver was the one that broke their embrace so he could lean back far enough to survey her, running his eyes over her worriedly, seemingly looking for something that he wasn't finding. He was about to speak when a sudden noise from the apartment beyond brought them both crashing back to reality.

Oliver moved her instantly to stand behind him, bringing his bow up as he leveled it at the roof access door. There was a moment of silence and Felicity thought they might have imagined the earlier sound and then, they came rushing in.

Four of the infected forced the roof access door open and came barreling at the newly reunited pair with gnashing teeth and loud, rasping groans. Oliver wasted no time in firing arrows into the first two but they came quicker than he could shoot and in short order he was engaged in hand to hand combat with the remaining pair. Feinting this way and that, he was careful to keep himself between Felicity and danger at all times. Using his bow so he didn't have to get too close, he knocked one off balance enough that it fell to the ground and with a sweeping motion, he jammed an arrow through the man's eye socket, stilling him permanently. The remaining infected he quickly disposed of by shoving over the edge of the roof, leaving Oliver and Felicity alone once more.

"Come on; we'll talk more when we're safe. For now, I need to get you out of here." He directed, curling a protective arm about her waist as he escorted her to the southwest corner of the building, his eyes darting to and fro as he hugged her to him tight.

Nodding dimly at him, she began to follow him as he guided her, stopping only once he began to fumble with the zipline she hadn't seen before now and she realized what she'd nearly forgotten.

"Wait! We can't leave yet. He's still inside! Captain Lance is in there!" She called over the sound of the storm that was quickly picking up steam. Staring at her in surprise, she could tell he'd been about to shut down her desired rescue plan until she said 'Captain Lance' and his eyes went wide.

"Lance is alive?" The genuine surprise in his voice made Felicity feel a bit better; she might not be useful to the group in her traditional hacking ways without a reliable internet connection these days but at least she was contributing something by informing Oliver of this small tidbit.

"Definitely alive. He's the one that took out my IV." She explained and he frowned at her, as if this was the strangest thing she could have said. "I saw you looking for it earlier, when you were looking me over. Lance took it out. I couldn't on account of… you know. My thing. About pointy things. My thing about hating pointy things, specifically." She babbled nervously until Oliver grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently to reassure her and get her back on track.

"Point being Lance saved me. On the street outside the Foundry… He's basically the reason I'm still standing. Or at least, he's the reason I'm still standing with a fully functioning brain and a beating heart. I would have gotten gobbled up by the infected within like fifteen minutes of leaving the Foundry if it weren't for him." She explained in her usual, rambling fashion and Oliver could only give a terse nod of response.

"Okay." He answered her and she looked at him uncertainly for a moment as she tried to puzzle out exactly what 'okay' meant, exactly.

"Okay, meaning…?"

"I'll go in there and look for him." Oliver assured and Felicity relaxed slightly. She was still worried for the Captain but if anyone was capable of helping her find him again, it was Oliver. "-But only after I get you out of here." He finished firmly, drawing Felicity up short.

"Oh no, I don't think so. He was with _me_. I'm not leaving here without him. I already got left behind once and that didn't go so well. I'm sticking with you, mister." She insisted, watching as Oliver crossed his arms before himself tersely, clearly not willing to budge on this one. His jaw was tight in that lethal look of his that normally would have meant he was putting an arrow through someone but she held her ground, crossing her own arms as she mirrored his posture.

He wasn't going to go down without a fight. That much was plain.

"Oliver, we can't wait, he needs us now. And even if you leave me behind here on this roof, you saw how easily those infected people forced the door open; I'll be a sitting duck. So either I go with you to look for Lance, or I go by myself. But one way or another, I _am_ going in there to look for him. Now." Felicity insisted sharply, pressing her glasses up on her nose (distantly thanking her lucky stars that she hadn't managed to break them in all the chaos). Being blind as a bat in an apocalypse sounded _really_ unappealing.

"Felicity," he growled her name, his voice almost bordering on that of his modulated Arrow voice as he turned to face her, his features gentle and pleading, "-I cannot have you in there. I can't knowingly bring you charging into danger – that's why I left you in the Foundry in the first place-"

"And I know that you had my best interests at heart. But what you need to understand is that we work best when we work together. So please, don't try to leave me behind. This is my choice." She begged and she could see the sag in his posture that signaled she had won.

"Please." He added in a soft undertone and it was all she could do not to cave, unable to form words as she swallowed to clear the knot in her throat. His impassioned plea seemed to have stolen the air from the rooftop so words were difficult but she tried for them anyway, doing her best to avoid his puppy dog eyes. She had this in the bag, if she could just tough it out one more second.

"If you're not leaving, I'm not leaving." She insisted and Oliver hung his head and gave a heavy nod before he stepped closer to her. Felicity closed her eyes as his fingers traced down her neck and arms, making her shiver for reasons entirely unrelated to the rain and cold. Offering him a nervous smile, she tried for humor to reassure him. "Besides, if I don't have your back in there, who will? I can't let you go into battle alone - what would Diggle say?"

He gave her a tight smile in return but she could see the concern and unhappiness written in the lines of his face. He didn't want her going in there and really, she didn't want to go back into that building. But there was no way she was leaving Captain Lance behind after all that he'd done for her. 

\-----

The very idea of allowing Felicity back into that hallway, back into close proximity with the infected, had his stomach in knots and his heart in his throat. But what choice did he have? He couldn't leave Captain Lance behind anymore than she could and Felicity had made an excellent point that leaving her alone on the roof was no safe bet. So if he was going to be forced to gamble with her life, he knew he'd rather have her right next to him so he could protect her, even if it meant bringing her back into the sphere of danger. 

This was Felicity. She had survived the likes of the Count, the Clock King, and Slade; she could absolutely survive whatever was waiting for them inside of the apartment. But that didn't make it any easier on Oliver to give in and let her come with him into the belly of the beast. 

"Stay with me. And no matter what happens to me, get back to the roof. I called Sara on this walkie talkie-" he took the walkie talkie from his bag and offered it to her, "so she'll be coming this way. If I don't make it, take Captain Lance and wait for Sara. She'll take you to the mansion." He instructed, watching as a tremble passed over her at his words.

"We're both coming back to this roof. Together." She stated firmly, shoving the walkie back at him with determination, squaring her shoulders before she gave a terse nod. "Let's go get the Captain." 


	9. Chapter 9

They edged along the hallway slowly, with Oliver in the lead, his body angled to shield her from possible harm as best as he could manage. He might have agreed (out of necessity) to let her come with him, but it was plain that he had no intention of making her an active participant in the rescue mission. Motivated by his need to protect her, he was able to fire off three arrows in rapid succession to fell three of the infected, using a knife that he pulled from his boot to finish off a fourth before it could come within a foot of Felicity.

Even a few foot distance was too close, as far as Oliver was concerned.

"He left through Apartment 714. We were in 712 before it was overrun but we busted a hole into the neighboring unit." Felicity murmured, rising onto the tips of her toes to try and whisper into his ear from behind him, one hand on his shoulder for balance. "From there, I don't know where he went." She confessed, her eyes sweeping across the hallway as the fluorescents flickered overhead, searching for and finding no signs of the Captain.

Oliver stalked forward from the apartment Felicity had pointed out, looking intently at the floor before he moved in the direction opposite of the roof access door. Keeping stride with him, Felicity resisted the urge to reach out and grab onto Oliver; she wasn't a child trailing after a parent and she didn't need a hand to hold. But really, this place was _creepy_ and she couldn't help it if maintaining physical contact with him comforted her. A lot. But she refrained – if he knew she was afraid, he'd be even more on edge than he already was and she didn't want that.

Oliver paused at the door to the stairwell, peering through the window in the door and jerking back suddenly, pressing himself flat against the wall. Felicity didn't have to ask what he'd seen; the expression on his face was answer enough that whatever was behind the door, she didn't want to know. Motioning for her to back up, they backtracked to the apartment unit that Lance and Felicity had cleared. Oliver swept the place himself quickly and then focused on the bookshelf set against the back wall.

"I need to move this to barricade the stairwell door. That's where they're getting in from." He explained, moving towards the piece of furniture and attempting to move it on his own. She watched him fumble for a moment before she stepped forward, tapping him on the shoulder.

"I think it's going to take both of us."

"I can manage." He answered back sharply and she frowned at him, only for him to soften his expression as he turned his gaze to her shoulder. "You're already hurt – I don't want you to mess your shoulder up anymore than it already is." He explained.

"I don't think this will kill me." She answered and though he heaved a sigh, he didn't complain as she helped him tilt the bookshelf and awkwardly, they maneuvered it into the hallway. Bracing the base against the wall opposite of the door, they leaned the bookcase so that it slanted against the door, an effective wedge to blockade it closed – even if doing so also made moving through this part of the hallway rather difficult.

"That should hold them." Oliver nodded approvingly, stepping forward to inspect her shoulder.

"Oliver," she murmured softly, pulling gently away from his prodding fingers, "-we'll worry about me later. I'm okay – the Captain might not be." She reminded him and though his lips set into a thin line, he nodded.

"You said that this floor seemed mostly empty when you two came here, right?" He asked and Felicity nodded.

"Yeah, that's why we went to the top floor; evacuation protocols meant it should have been evacuated first, so I thought there would be fewer people on this floor." She explained and Oliver nodded, suddenly turning on his heel and moving back towards the roof access door.

"Oliver? Where are you going?"

"You were right Felicity. This floor should be mostly empty. The Vertigo infected seem to be coming from the lower levels. So that means now that we've blocked off their entry point, there shouldn't be any infected left on this floor – except for however many got in before we blockaded the door." He explained and Felicity stared at him uncomprehendingly.

"Okay… not following. Why are we leaving?"

"We're not leaving – just strategically positioning ourselves." He explained as they reached the roof access door stairs and he turned, carefully sweeping her behind him. "Call him, Felicity."

 _Oh_.

Nodding even as her stomach twisted nervously, Felicity cupped her hands around her mouth and said a silent prayer that Oliver wasn't biting off more than he could chew.

"CAPTAIN LANCE!" She yelled, her voice straining as she put all the volume she could muster behind the call. "CAPTAIN LANCE, WE'VE GOT BACKUP!!" She continued and before she could go on, they came.

Pouring out of the room in a tangle of bloody limbs (or stumps of former limbs) and torn clothing, five of the infected staggered out of the corner apartment on the opposite end of the hall and raced towards them. Slowed by the bookshelf blockade though, Oliver was able to pick them off easily, firing lazy arrows that felled all five with ease. Grinning at her, he put his hood up and together, they moved towards the apartment from which the infected had come, Oliver collecting his arrows as they went.

They hadn't even made it to the apartment in question before Lance came out, looking disheveled but otherwise no worse for wear as he did a quick sweep of the hall, a finger on the trigger of his gun as he swung it to and fro. He stared wide eyed at the pair of them before he lowered the weapon, shaking his head as he returned it to his holster. When he lifted his face to stare at them again, Felicity could read the relief on his face as he looked her over.

Wordlessly, she rushed forward and flung her arms around the Captain, who took a step back but slowly, returned her embrace, offering her a wry smile when at last she pulled away.

"I'm really glad you're okay." Felicity breathed and the Captain rubbed the back of his neck as he offered her a shrug.

"I guess it takes more than a half dozen Vertigo nutbars to kill me. Bad ticker or no." He joked before turning his gaze to Oliver, his features hardening with resignation.

"So lemme guess; she's going with you now?" He asked and Felicity turned to look at Oliver, realizing he'd put his Arrow persona back on in full – hood, mask, and voice modulator to boot. Apparently he was still safeguarding his identity.

"You both are." His digitally altered voice sounded and Felicity's eyes flew open wide as Oliver suddenly drew her to his side, holding her in place there tightly – he was apparently taking no chances with her safety, it seemed.

"And where exactly are we going?" Lance questioned, prompting Oliver to smirk knowingly.

"For now? The roof." He answered, clearly not about to give up any information to Lance. Felicity rolled her eyes but followed in step with Oliver as he ushered the pair down the hallway and up to the roof of the building. He wasted no time in marching to the far corner, where his zipline was still ready and waiting. Turning over his shoulder to look at Lance, Oliver offered a cocky grin, just visible beneath the shadow of his hood.

"Think you can keep up?" He asked. Captain Lance looked over the zipline uncertainly before he turned back to Oliver with a sigh, none too amused.

"Why do I suspect you already know the answer to that question?"

Oliver grinned, turning his focus to clipping into the line before he pulled Felicity into his arms, prompting her to grasp onto him for dear life, too nervous to yell at the pair of them to play nice. Even if she'd done the whole grappling arrow/zipline thing before, it never got any better. Heights just weren't her thing. Neither was jumping out of planes; come to think of it, really any of the high altitude things Oliver did were pretty much not her idea of a good time.

"I'll be back for you in a minute, Captain." Oliver explained briefly. Felicity had enough time to tighten her grip on Oliver's neck before they were off, the wind and rain whipping through her hair as they zoomed along at what felt like impossibly high speeds. When she felt his feet make contact with solid ground she opened her eyes (which she only in that moment realized she had closed) and looked around nervously as she gingerly set her sock clad feet on the rooftop.

Sensing her uncertainty, Oliver gave her a reassuring smile and gestured before him.

"It's safe. Sara and I cleared the floor and blockaded the lower levels. The only way in or out is through this roof." He explained and Felicity felt her muscles loosen in relief as she nodded. She had plenty more questions but they could wait until he'd gone to fetch Captain Lance; Felicity didn't feel right leaving him to wait, alone on the apartment roof.

"I'll stay here until you're back." She assured and Oliver nodded, his expression tight as he took a step away from her, his hand still on her arm. Clearly he wasn't keen on letting her out of his sight just yet and the feeling was most certainly mutual.

"Felicity-" he began, the syllables seeming longer and heavier when spoken through his modulator and she couldn't help but shiver at the sound of it. Clearing his throat and shaking his head before he took a deep breath, Oliver squared his shoulders and looked at her determinedly. Without saying another word, he stepped forward and covered her lips with his. Though he was gentle, there was a desperation in the action, as though he was still seeking assurances that she was real.

If she'd doubted the reality of his existence before her, those doubts were banished now, his existence confirmed by the warmth of his lips on hers and the racing, uneven beating of her heart. When they parted, he seemed more at ease, though she felt as though she'd had a shot of adrenaline plunged straight through her chest.

"Wow." She managed breathlessly, smiling up at him dizzily as he readied himself to leave. "I ah, I definitely think we should revisit this conversation. Soon." She beamed and she couldn't help but take satisfaction in the way he chuckled at her words, his laughter a few notes deeper than normal because of the modulator.

"I intend to."

He disappeared over the side of the building with practiced ease, leaving Felicity a few minutes to herself, which she spent swooning privately. By the time Oliver reappeared with the Captain, she'd composed herself somewhat, her heart rate back to normal and her breath no longer ragged. But even as the pair of men unclipped from the line, the corners of Felicity's lips were still pulled up into a demure smile that, try though she might, she couldn't smother.

He was a really good kisser, after all. Like… _Olympic medal worthy_. He couldn't kiss a girl senseless and expect her to recover at the drop of the hat. Really, it just wasn't fair.

"Now what?" The Captain asked, looking from Felicity to the Arrow and breaking Felicity's post-kiss reverie. "You got some safehouse to hole up in?" He asked and Oliver nodded, keeping his face downcast.

"We do. But we'll spend the night here for now." Oliver offered, leading them out of the rain and into the building, directly to the apartment where he and Sara had been holed up before they'd split up. It was small but it was safe and for now, that was all that any of them could ask for.

"Umm… who exactly is 'we'?" Felicity piped up, her grin fading as the reality of their present circumstances returned to her. She didn't dare hope that all of their loved ones had made it through this tragedy alive, knowing their propensity for being in the middle of the action.

But oh, how she wanted to hope that was the case.

"Are my daughters with you?" Lance asked before Oliver could answer Felicity, his voice low and faltering. Felicity could see the shine of tears in his eyes and she knew the Captain had to be in no small amount of pain, not knowing what had befallen his girls.

Oliver was still for a moment and then he gave a terse nod, which prompted Quentin Lance to sag with palpable relief.

"Both of them?" He asked weakly, and Oliver nodded once more, putting a friendly hand on the man's shoulder as Lance wept openly in joy.

"They were both alive and well when I left them." Oliver assured, turning his head to meet Felicity's gaze as he continued to offer comfort to the relieved father. Felicity felt tears slide down her cheeks, she too feeling immensely relieved to know that Sara and Laurel were safe. Mouthing the words to Oliver, she inquired as to the others.

 _Roy?_ She mouthed questioningly and Oliver nodded. _John_? She continued and she received another nod and a small smile accompanied with a small motion to mime rocking a baby and she felt her jaw drop open. The baby – of course! She'd missed Lyla and John's baby being born. But it _had_ been born and it was alive and well, if she took his meaning. _Lyla?_ Another nod; good, she'd assumed that if the baby was alright, Lyla was too, but she hadn't wanted to assume.

 _Thea?_ She mouthed and the way Oliver's body stiffened she knew that she'd touched on a nerve.

 _Oh god no_.

Before she could apologize though, Oliver bent his head to Lance's ear and whispered something Felicity couldn't hear. When he stepped away from the Captain though, Lance ducked quickly into a bathroom that Felicity realized Oliver was gesturing towards, closing the door behind him. Afforded a moment of privacy, Oliver moved towards Felicity and lowered his head to her ear, his voice a low, Arrow-not-Oliver growl.  

"We don't know. She told me she was traveling but Roy said he got a text from her and… she wasn't where she told me she was. I'm not sure where she is. Or if…" He trailed off, his gaze steely as he stared unseeingly at the floor.

Uncertainty like that, Felicity knew all too well, was agonizing to live with and she could only imagine what it was doing to Oliver, to not know if his baby sister was alive, dead, or infected. Felicity put a hand on his arm in comfort and he bowed his head in quiet thanks. 

"Sara was with me; she doubled back to try and get word to the others on the CB radio. She should be back soon." He offered, shrugging off his backpack and rifling through it before he withdrew the walkie talkie he'd tried to convince Felicity to take earlier.

"Songbird, this is Archer. I have Smoking Gun. Over." He growled into the walkie, waiting for a response that didn't come as the rain continued to fall, tapping gently on the windows of the otherwise quiet apartment. Glancing at him with raised brows, Felicity couldn't help the smile on her lips or the giggle that rushed out of her.

" _Smoking Gun_? Wow. You guys are real original."

"It wasn't my idea." Oliver retorted defensively.

"It was mine."

Felicity jumped and jerked nearer to Oliver as she stared at the doorway of the apartment only to find Sara decked out in her Canary black leather and mask. Felicity felt a grin spread across her face and she rushed forward to embrace the blonde, genuinely relieved to see someone else she cared about, alive and well.

"Sara!" She exclaimed softly as she pulled away, regarding her friend with bright eyes as Sara closed the door behind her and strode into the apartment, her hands on her hips as she regarded Oliver.

"So this is your idea of staying out of trouble?" Sara asked with raised brows and from beneath his hood, Oliver smirked unapologetically.

"We all made it out safely. If I had waited for you, that wouldn't be the case." He answered in a playfully defensive tone and Sara rolled her eyes at him and shook her head.

"I am gonna kick your ass, Queen." She grunted, turning back to Felicity with a warm smile. "But I won't, on account of I'm really happy to see you, Felicity. We've been going crazy looking for you."

"Sorry for all the fuss." Felicity apologized looking from Sara to Oliver as she fidgeted self consciously, keenly aware that the pair of them had probably expended a great deal of energy trying to find her. "I'll try to be conscious the next time an apocalypse breaks out."

"I'm just glad you're alright." Sara gave Felicity a playful nudge as she walked past her toward the sofa. Before Sara reached her destination though, the bathroom door opened and she froze as she spied the individual exiting it.

"D-Daddy?"

Felicity felt like she was watching a scene out of a movie as Sara stumbled forward and threw herself into her father's arms, sending Quentin Lance reeling a step before he regained his balance. The Captain cradled her head as he held her to him in disbelief, staring down at his daughter before his fingers curled around her and he embraced her in earnest, tears streaming freely down his cheeks as he muttered her name in amazement. All the while Sara held onto him, openly crying tears of profound joy.

Felicity found herself drifting closer to Oliver as she watched father and daughter reunite and unthinkingly, Felicity found her fingers twining in Oliver's. The physical contact, small though it was, offered her more comfort than she could say. And when Oliver bent his head to her ear, she leaned into him eagerly.

"Let's give them a minute?" Oliver asked and Felicity nodded, moving as though to dry her eyes on her sleeve before thinking better of it; her sleeve was wet from the rain outside and coated in blood beside. She followed Oliver as he led her to the bedroom of the apartment, still sniffling back happy tears as she tried to compose herself. Oliver strode across the room to a small oak dresser in the corner and began to rifle through it. Unsatisfied with whatever he encountered, he turned and went instead to the closet set into one wall, throwing open the door and disappearing inside. Felicity heard the sound of hangers rattling against each other before he reemerged, an assortment of clothes in hand.

"They aren't your size, but I thought maybe you'd want some fresh clothes. After I patch you up, that is." He murmured, the voice modulator making his voice a low growl. Looking down at herself, Felicity took in the bloody, frayed garments she'd been wearing and nodded, allowing Oliver to take her by the hand into the master bathroom as he sat her down on the toilet and knelt before her, going through his bag before coming up with a small first aid kit.

"May I?" Oliver asked, motioning to her shoulder and Felicity gulped but nodded. As Oliver moved to touch her though she changed her mind and lifted one of her hands to cover his, effectively halting him in his tracks.

"Hold on." She interjected, looking at him beseechingly. "Can you just umm… take off the whole y'know… mask and hood? And the voice modulator. I'm letting _Oliver_ patch me up. Not his grumpy alter ego." She explained, watching as Oliver chortled and rose to close the bathroom door behind them before he carefully lowered his hood and took off the voice modulator and mask, setting them aside before he resumed his position kneeling before her.

"Better?" He asked, making no move to touch her this time. Felicity bit her lower lip to contain an appreciative smile and then gave him a shy nod.

He was exceedingly gentle as he cut her shirt around the area where she'd ripped her shoulder open and she knew the only reason he hadn't asked her to take the thing off completely was for the sake of her own modesty – a fact which she appreciated greatly. He'd been equally as respectful the time she'd been shot by the Clock King and Sara had patched her up, Oliver (and Diggle too) both having pointedly refused to turn around until she had been patched up and was once more covered.

That was her Oliver alright; your good ol' fashioned, vigilante with a deep sense of morality and a chivalrous streak. Go figure.

"This… is going to hurt." He warned her, his expression making her more than a little apprehensive but she nodded, doing her best not to look concerned.

"What's another scar, right?" She joked, motioning towards her right shoulder, where she boasted a scar from the bullet she'd taken for Sara. "I'll have one on each side. Nice and balanced." She said, her nose crinkling in amusement at her own little joke but Oliver seemed none too amused.

"I should never have left you in the Foundry. None of this would have happened if I'd just…stayed." He shook his head as he poured alcohol over her wound, prompting her to wince and swallow a yelp of pain before it could leave her lips. Grimacing at the knowledge that he was causing her pain, Oliver daubed at her wound with gauze, ensuring that it was effectively cleaned.

"Why did you?" She asked softly and he fell still before her, his face level with hers as his eyes bore into her own, guilt ridden and heavy.

"I didn't want to… You were in a coma. Our date it… I messed up and someone tracked me to the restaurant. He blew it up and you… You didn't wake up." His voice was thick with emotion as he stared at the cold tile of the bathroom floor.

"Hey, we don't have to talk about this, I just- I don't remember much. Only flashes. I just wanted a clearer picture, that's all." Felicity explained, trying to assuage the guilt he so clearly felt, not wanting him to blame himself anymore than he already likely did.

"No. I have to. You deserve to know." Oliver answered her, sucking in a breath and steadying himself before he continued. "When everything started happening, I arranged for you to be transferred from the hospital to the mansion but things went downhill before they could move you, so Roy and I started to. And then Diggle and Lyla were stuck in the hospital and Roy and I had to either leave you in the Foundry or risk bringing you back to the hospital and leaving you alone in the car… The doctor said moving you could kill you so I thought… I thought you would be safer in the Foundry. I thought I'd come back for you after Digg and Lyla and the baby were safe and everything would be okay." His guilt was palpable and wanting to relieve him of such a burden, Felicity reached a hand out to touch his shoulder, the other hand tilting his chin up to look at her.

"Hey… None of this is your fault - I don't blame you. For any of it." She intoned softly.

"Felicity, if it weren't for me you wouldn't be in this mess." Oliver retorted, his voice and features hardening with self directed anger.

"Oliver if it weren't for you, I would be dead." She corrected him, her tone firm. "I'm alive because of you."  He opened his mouth to respond and she shook her head, not about to let him argue with her. "No. I don't want to hear the million and one excuses you've come up with for how this is your fault. It isn't. _You saved me_. You always have. And that's why I believe in you, even when things get scary. Because you are always there for me." She finished, effectively silencing his protests as he stared at her in… awe? Surprise? She wasn't certain.

They were quiet as he continued working on her shoulder, a task which had her gripping _his_ shoulder tightly as he stitched her up sans-pain killers. Wincing as he drew the thread back and prepared for the last few stitches, Felicity exhaled raggedly.

"Do we have Aspirin? That helped last time, when Sara patched me up." She breathed, looking around the small room to distract herself until she realized that Oliver's shoulders were quivering with barely contained laughter. "What?" She asked curiously and he lifted his head to her smilingly.

"That um 'Aspirin' that Diggle gave you? … Actually Oxycodone." Oliver chortled as Felicity stared at him, mouth agape.

"Seriously? Ugh! I thought this whole time that I was really tough because I took a bullet and all I took for it was Aspirin. Not cool! I thought that really upped my tough factor. Guess not…" She grumbled as Oliver finished stitching her shoulder, rocking back on the balls of his feet to survey her critically.

"Forehead next." He directed and she pulled away from him, crossing her arms in front of her.

"No way. There is absolutely no way you are stitching up my _forehead_ without any painkillers, Aspirin, Oxycodone or otherwise. I draw the line at Vigilante Surgeon."

"Your forehead doesn't need stitches, Felicity. Just cleaning up and a butterfly bandage." Oliver responded smilingly, coaxing her back towards him so he could tend to her wounds. She swallowed nervously as he worked, his face hovering just beyond hers as thoughts of their earlier kiss replayed in her mind. After a few minutes when he had finished he gathered up the used supplies and threw them in the trash, regarding her with a smile.

"All done; that wasn't so bad now, was it?" He asked teasingly and before she could stop herself, Felicity had answered him in earnest.

"Playing doctor with you is always a good time." She blurted before clapping a hand to her mouth in mortification, sucking in a deep breath and exhaling it slowly as she intentionally avoided his gaze. "I mean, because you're really good with your hands." _Not helping. Worse, actually._ "So it doesn't hurt. When you bandage my wounds up, that is." She tried and failed to recover, mentally cursing herself as Oliver smiled serenely up at her from his vantage still kneeling on the floor before her.

"Felicity?" He inquired, his voice a low hum as she finally met his gaze. "For what it's worth… your tough factor? It's sky high… always has been." He assured her, placing one hand over each of her knees. And somehow, Felicity found herself leaning closer to him, her eyes on his lips as their faces neared, her forehead brushing his (gingerly, and on the uninjured side, she was careful).

Then a knock on the door broke their reverie and they both pulled away from each other just as the door opened to admit a still teary eyed Sara, who smiled as she saw Oliver standing beside the still seated, newly bandaged Felicity.

"Hey you guys… You all patched up, Felicity?" She asked and Felicity nodded, her brain a million different kinds of muddled as she tottered to her feet, assisted by a helping hand from Oliver, who looked nowhere near as befuddled as she felt.

"Yeah, Oliver um… he took care of me. I'm good." Felicity assured, flashing a big thumbs up Sara's way and feeling silly for doing so instantly as she dropped her hands back down to her sides.

"I'll let you change." Oliver murmured, dragging his hood back over his face and replacing the mask and voice modulator as he left the room, leaving the two women in his wake. His departure left her feeling hollow, a visceral emptiness that hung heavily on her, as though she'd lost a limb or some other extension of herself. Sara watched him leave the room with a frown before returning her gaze to Felicity, who was attempting to compose herself in the wake of his departure.

What should she be doing? He'd bandaged her up and then she was supposed to change. _Ah. Yes. Fresh clothes_. She should work on putting those on. Unfortunately, her movement was rather restricted now that Oliver had stitched and wrapped her shoulder tightly in gauze. Floundering with her top, Felicity attempted to remove it with limited success.

"You want some help?" Sara asked and Felicity nodded in embarrassment as the blonde stepped forward, wordlessly helping Felicity out of her bloodied clothes and into the clean shirt (green, of course he'd picked _green)_ and jeans that Oliver had dug up for her. He'd been right in saying they weren't the right size – they were baggy on her – but they would do for now. Besides, they were better than the bloody, wet rags she was in now.

"I brought you these." Sara offered, holding before her a pair of shoes and fresh socks that Felicity regarded with relief.

"You are a lifesaver." Felicity breathed, prying off the socks she'd been wearing since awakening in the Foundry. "I've been in like… five pairs of socks this entire time. I wasn't finding my size shoes in any of the apartments we swept." Felicity rambled as she pulled on the socks and shoes, wriggling her toes approvingly. They were a little big but they would definitely be preferable to going barefoot any longer.

"Even in an apocalypse, we women know the importance of footwear." Sara teased, offering Felicity a wink as she leaned against the sink, watching Felicity pull the shoes on her feet with triumphant eagerness.

"He ah… he was lost without you, you know." Sara intoned quietly, gesturing over her shoulder to where Oliver had disappeared. Felicity fell silent and still, watching Sara with wide eyes as the blonde tapped her fingers against her folded arms. "He was a mess… Combing the city for any clue where you'd gone. He was a man possessed. I was afraid that he was going to get himself killed looking for you." Sara confessed and Felicity felt her throat constrict at the very idea.

"I was pretty lost too… If it weren't for your father…" Felicity trailed off, the implication hanging heavily in the air between them as Felicity rose stiffly to her feet.

"I just want you to know that I'm really glad he found you, Felicity. You're good for him… He needs you." Sara said, sharing a knowing look with Felicity before slinging an arm over her and ushering her out of the bathroom and back out into the main body of the apartment. They found Oliver fully hooded up, sitting on the couch, engrossed in quiet conversation with Captain Lance. As the two women entered the room, Lance rose and went to Sara and Felicity.

"You doing alright, Miss Smoak?" He asked with concern as Sara slipped her arm away from Felicity and instead embraced her father, leaving Felicity free to sink eagerly onto the couch alongside Oliver. _It felt really good to sit down and relax._

"I'm good." Felicity nodded, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "And I think we've been through enough for you to call me 'Felicity' – don't you think, Captain Lance?" Felicity grinned, and the older man gave a low laugh, nodding in amusement.

"I reckon you're probably right. But you can probably drop the whole 'Captain Lance' thing then. Quentin will do." He offered, still side hugging Sara, who was grinning approvingly at the exchange. Felicity nodded smilingly before stifling a wide yawn. Sensing her exhaustion, Oliver leaned forward and whispered in her ear.

"You should rest; you've had quite a day…. Quite a week, actually."

"So have you." She answered back sleepily but pointedly – she sincerely doubted the others were any less tired than she was.

"Go lie down in the other room and get some sleep. I'll just keep watch." He advised but she shook her head in vehement disagreement, not at all keen on the idea of leaving him, even if they'd only be separated by a bedroom door. Whatever they were – friends, partners, a couple, or something else entirely – she had always felt safest at his side and based on what Sara had said, he probably wanted her close by anyway.

Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking.

"I'm sticking with you, mister." She answered back with another yawn. For a moment she could tell he was torn, trying to decide if he wanted to press the issue but at last he seemed to concede and instead, he reclined against the back of the couch and motioned to her pointedly. Surprised but too tired to argue, Felicity scooted closer to him and pillowed her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes with a soft exhale as his arm encircled her protectively.

"Get some sleep… I'll be right here when you wake up – I promise." His voice was still garbled by the modulator but she smiled at his words, cuddling into his side as though she'd done it a hundred times before. There was a steely quality to his promise that she took comfort in, his promise like a security blanket that she happily cocooned herself in as she fell asleep, his words ringing in her ears. _I promise._

And for the first time since everything had happened, Felicity slept soundly and deeply.

\-----

He'd been so exhausted, both his mind and body had cried out for sleep. But as the night had worn on, Oliver had denied himself that most basic reprieve, intent on staying awake so he could watch over them all. Sara had risen a little past one in the morning to relieve him but he'd shooed her back to bed, assuring her that he wasn't at all tired.

Masks and hoods were great for hiding things like bloodshot eyes, or bags under your eyes, it seemed.

Left alone to sit and listen, pinned beneath Felicity's sleeping figure, he had passed time by watching her sleep. It was amazing, how much joy it brought him to simply watch her body rise and fall with even breaths, to watch diluted emotions pass across her face in slumber. She didn't move much in her sleep, he found. This proved to be a good thing, until somewhere in the two o'clock hour when she shifted ever so slightly, her face nuzzling the crook of his neck.

If she'd been awake, it would have been a tender thing but as it was, she wasn't conscious of the fact that she was doing it, so he didn't dare let himself envision her doing it while awake. Some things were too dangerous to let himself imagine and tender, small intimacies with Felicity were indeed a dangerous brand of imaginings.

He'd been doing a good job of avoiding such temptations, focusing on counting her breaths or feeling her pulse by touching his fingers ever so gently to her wrists. But when her whole body had suddenly curled against him and her nails had dug hard into his skin, he'd found it very hard not to imagine her clinging to him in other, far less platonic circumstances.

 _Get a grip, Queen_.

He'd felt relief when Quentin Lance had awoke before dawn and sat down on the chair adjacent to the sofa, his eyes raking over the sight of Felicity curled practically in the lap of Starling City's vigilante.

"Get a lot of sleep, did you?" Lance asked in a low chortle and Oliver offered only a grunt in reply, too tired to come up with a witty response. Felicity's comfort and safety trumped him getting sleep but that didn't make him any less grumpy in his sleep deprivation.

"You know you've got quite a devout fanbase, there." Lance murmured, wagging a finger in Felicity's direction and Oliver instinctively curled his fingers around her a little more tightly.

"Miss Smoak is a loyal woman." Oliver retorted, doing his best to keep his voice quiet so as not to wake her.

" _Dogs_ are loyal; that girl would die before she'd give up faith in you." Lance growled in a mixture of disdain and awe. "You must be some hell of a guy to get a girl like that to commit herself so wholeheartedly to you."

Oliver was silent, his gaze dropping to Felicity's face, peaceful in sleep. He'd removed her glasses shortly after she'd fallen asleep in his arms and without them to frame her face, he could see each eyelash, each little crease of her skin. His eyes fell to the angry line of red across her hairline and the little butterfly bandage he'd put over it to help it heal. Gently, he traced his fingers over her forehead, carefully skirting her wound. Her lips twitched into a soft smile at the action and after another pass of her forehead he dropped his hand back to the couch.

"I think it's just that she's one hell of a woman, not the other way around." He said at last in response and Lance crossed his arms before him as he regarded the Arrow with mixed emotions.

"Okay, come on cut the theatrics. The city is gone. There are no more vigilantes or cops, just the living and the infected. So, let's just drop the newspaper names and the hoods and put our identities out there, whatdya say?"

Oliver raised his brows as he looked at Lance, not entirely surprised by the man's rather blunt request for the truth.

"Revealing that information isn't up to just me, Captain." Oliver answered in his modulated Arrow voice, sighing heavily as he thought of all the people whose lives were tied to his and his secret identity. He did not take revealing himself lightly – for good reason.

His sudden sigh seemed to have roused Felicity though and he felt her shift against him, prompting him to fall completely still. He waited for her to settle and when she had, he resumed stroking her forehead, relieved to see her relaxing beneath the gentle touch as she sank deeper into sleep.

Satisfied that he hadn't woken her, Oliver drew his hand away from her forehead, done with his attentive ministrations – for now. When he raised his eyes to look at Quentin Lance again though, he found the older man watching him in surprise, his eyes glinting brightly.

"So ah… you two, huh?" Quentin murmured in a mixture of amusement and disapproval, sweeping his hand in Oliver and Felicity's direction.

"Us two what, Captain?" Oliver answered back in feigned incomprehension, watching as Quentin rolled his eyes and cleared his throat quietly before he spoke again, trying to make his question plain.  

"You know. You're a uh… a couple. Aren't you?" Lance expounded and Oliver narrowly suppressed the laughter bubbling up from his gut, though a sly smile did pull the corners of his lips upward. In answer, he swept his arm protectively over her, his fingers brushing against hers softly.

In truth, he didn't know what they were; he did know that he loved her. Deeply. That the very idea of losing her made him feel cold and broken, made him feel a greater agony than any pain he'd endured during the five years he'd been gone. But loving her wasn't enough – that much he knew from experience. He'd loved his mother and he hadn't been able to save her. He'd loved Tommy like a brother and in the end, that hadn't saved him.

Love was not enough.

But love was also not nothing. And so if the scale were from nothing to something, Oliver was willing to gamble that he and Felicity? Whatever they were, it was somewhere closer to 'something' than it was to 'nothing'.

People that were 'nothing' certainly didn't go out on dates together. And people that were 'nothing' definitely didn't return the kiss. And Felicity? She'd definitely returned his kiss in earnest earlier. And if he'd read her face right, they'd been about to kiss again before Sara had found them in the bathroom.

"Something like that, yes. Is that a problem?" He answered Lance at last, jutting his chin out before him, practically daring Lance to say he had a problem with the idea of Felicity and the man in the hood.

"Huh. No, no problems here. Just trying to figure out the dynamic, that's all." Lance answered, sounding only the slightest bit peeved – and who could blame him? His tolerance of the Arrow was still new and bound to be a little thin in places.

There was a beat of silence and then, Lance spoke again.

"You keep her safe, you hear me? If you care about that girl – and I believe that you do, oddly enough – do right by her and _keep her safe_. Just… do us both a favor and be the kind of man she deserves to be with. The kind of man that deserves that kind of unflinching faith…. Okay?"

He hadn't expected such a paternal warning. Oliver was transported back to memories of a stern faced Detective Lance threatening him to within an inch of his life before his first dates with Laurel ( _all_ his dates with Laurel, if he was being honest -  he'd never left the Lance home without at least some threat being made on his life if he didn't bring her back before curfew). Somehow though, instead of being off-put, Oliver was comforted by the notion that Lance cared enough about Felicity to level such a hefty warning Oliver's way.

It was good to know that there was someone else out there looking out for Felicity's best interests. Though Oliver doubted he could ever live up to Lance's request – Felicity deserved better than he could ever be. But he could try to be worthy of her.

"Believe me, Captain – I'm trying to be." 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this chapter folks! I just accepted a new job that requires me to make a big cross country move so my updates may be a little slower in coming for the next month or two as I pack, move, and then unpack. But rest assured that the updates WILL continue to come for this story! (: 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading and commenting!

Her senses came back to her slowly, a slow trickle of sensation even as her eyes stayed cemented shut with sleep. She'd slept soundly – that sort of bone deep sleep that leeched into your bones and took a long time to wake up from but left you feeling years younger? Yeah, that was the kind of sleep she'd enjoyed the night before. Felicity stretched tentatively, yawning as she rolled over and nestled her head against her pillow. Inhaling deeply, a smile curved her lips at the familiar smell of sweat and leather mingled with the distant, faint whiff of his cologne. She made a contented humming noise as she inhaled the smell again, his name falling from her lips.

 _"Oliver_." She murmured, blinking in the faint light of dawn just beginning to break across the city. Beneath her, the 'pillow' shifted and she suddenly was aware that she wasn't on a pillow at all, but rather, her head was pillowed on his lap, her nose pressing into his abdomen.

 _What a dream._ As if she would ever wake in Oliver Queen's lap.

"Good morning Felicity." He murmured in response, his fingers tracing across her forehead and making a pleasant shiver run down her spine, though still not shaking her from her sleepiness enough to realize she was actually awake.

"Not yet." She mumbled, lifting a palm to cup his cheek, her fingers brushing across the stubble covering his jaw, allowing her fingers to trail across his lips before she lifted her head and pressed a soft, languid kiss to his lips as she drank him up like a morning cup of coffee.

Satisfied, she fell back on his lap, smiling sleepily as she stretched once more, waiting for her body to wake itself up as it always did, wrenching away her dream world and replacing it with the cold face of reality. But there was no jarring alarm clock waking her, no cold floor rising up to meet her as she rolled out of bed, nothing. There was only the solid warmth of him as he ran his fingers through her hair, exhaling in laughter.

"Someone's a morning person." He murmured and she bolted upright, blinking at him blearily as she felt atop her head for her glasses, coming up empty handed until he leaned forward and plucked her glasses from the coffee table. He offered them to her wordlessly and she slid them up the bridge of her nose, blinking at him owlishly, her cheeks flushing.

"Oh my god." She muttered, shaking her head and cupping her face in her hands as she realized what she'd done. "This isn't a dream, is it?"

"Not the last time I checked, no." Oliver assured her, grinning like a loon when she looked back up at him, utterly mortified.

"I am so sorry. This is like… a thousand different kinds of embarrassing." She was practically tripping over herself to apologize but before she could splutter anything more, Sara and Lance walked into the room, their sparse belongings already collected into a bag that the Captain was stubbornly refusing to let Sara carry.

They both stopped dead as they caught sight of Felicity and Oliver, Sara's eyes running over the pair of them in amusement before she focused on Oliver.

"We should go; the sun's up. If we hurry we can make it back before lunch." Sara offered, casting a worried glance Felicity's direction. "If you're up for it, of course."

Tugging at the neck of her shirt, Felicity exposed the neatly patched wound on her shoulder, a dark smudge of red visible against the white bandages Oliver had bound it in.

"I'm good to go; he did a good job patching me up." Felicity assured Sara, smiling at the other woman who nodded in relief. It was clear that Sara was anxious to get back to her sister but she wouldn't do so at the cost of Felicity's health. A fact of which Felicity was deeply appreciative.

Gathering their limited belongings, Oliver insisted on carrying everything of Felicity's – not that there was really much of hers to carry, aside from her tablet (which she'd yelped in joy at the sight of when he'd shown it to her, having thought it lost back in the other apartment). Oliver had then grudgingly led them to the streets below, aware that it was the fastest way of getting back to where he and Sara had hidden the SUV and the bike. Despite this, Felicity could tell he was unhappy about this; he was edgier the moment they left the apartment and began to descend the fire escape, swinging this way and that at every sound, strung so tightly she thought he'd snap with tension.

\-----

He was at the front of their party, his bow held before him with an arrow nocked and ready to fly at a moment's notice as they dropped down from the fire escape of the apartment and into the alley below. Oliver felt as tightly drawn as the bowstring in his hands, each muscle taut with a nervous energy that stemmed almost entirely from the fact that he was knowingly putting the people he cared about in close proximity to danger on the open streets of the Glades.

Felicity and Quentin Lance were exhausted and underfed, even after a night of sleep, the bags under Felicity's eyes spoke to how weary she was, to say nothing of the fact that she'd been subsisting on fluids while in her coma – fluids which had undoubtedly run out before she awoke to a world where food wasn't quite as easy to come by as it once had been. And though her smile or her bright eyes could easily distract him, he had definitely noticed the faint sickly pallor to her – she was still recovering from her coma and he was parading her about in broad daylight on the streets of the Glades.

Lance wasn't much better off; he'd been barely scraping by when he and Felicity had met up and he too was underfed and under-rested. Even Oliver himself wasn't at his best after having spent the night awake and on watch.

Their group was hardly the A team he'd _want_ to have roving the streets overrun with Vertigo infected corpses. But it was the team he had – and he was going to protect them to his last breath.

As they trotted through the empty streets, he turned his head over his shoulder not for the first time so that he could confirm Felicity was still following close behind him. He'd done so more times than he could count over the course of their voyage, each time reassured by the sight of her, blonde hair swinging from the ponytail she'd collected it into. Her eyes were wide and she was breathing more heavily than usual but she seemed otherwise alright, offering him a tight smile when her eyes met his.

"So far so good, right?" She breathed quietly as they slowed down while approaching an intersection, Oliver holding his bow aloft and Sara standing at the rear of their party, her bo-staff at the ready.

His eyes slid back to Felicity and he gave a subtle nod of his head, too terse to offer anything more enthusiastic. So far they were safe; but he had felt it – felt _something_ – and he knew that Sara had too. The sixth sense that seemed to say 'you are being watched'. He could practically feel the eyes on him, raking him across the coals in an effort to break him and spill his every secret. It was like being back on the island in many ways.

_They were being watched. And they weren't safe._

Guiding the group down an alley, Oliver poked his head around the corner and glanced around, stepping out in full and firing off two arrows to deal with a pair of infected lingering nearby. That done, the area appeared clear and he waved the rest of them forward.

"The vehicles should be just ahead." He and Sara had left the SUV parked cockeyed on the sidewalk between two other abandoned vehicles in the hopes that its beat up appearance and the dilapidated state of the other two cars would keep any potential car thieves at bay. The motorcycle, Oliver had hidden behind a dumpster in an alley not far from the SUV. Neither was exactly well hidden but given the hurry the pair had been in, it had been the best they could manage.

A prickle of unease passed over Oliver, his spine tingling as though he were being watched even still. Without warning the others, he stopped dead in his tracks, his hair standing on end as he glanced around. Caught off guard by his sudden stop, Felicity ran into him and instinctively, he dropped his bow in favor of catching her so she didn't fall. Holding her steady as she regained her balance, Oliver's eyes swept over the buildings in the area, looking for whatever it was that had made him so suddenly edgy.

"Oliver," Sara whispered, stepping forward to confer with him. "I don't see the SUV." She informed him, a note of warning in her voice as her eyes swept towards the empty space of asphalt where they'd left the vehicle. His eyes followed her gaze, finding only the two junk cars they'd put it next to and not the SUV itself. Sweeping the street nervously, he felt a tightness building in his chest.

"Sara," he began, feeling the pressure begin to build rapidly, "we need to double ba-" he began, only to be interrupted, for in the same moment, he saw it: the telltale glint of sun hitting a gun's scope.

"GET DOWN!" He yelled, throwing Felicity to the ground and draping his body over hers just as bullets ricocheted off of the asphalt where they had been standing a moment before. Scrambling to his feet, he pulled Felicity up after him, doing his best to shield her body with his as he ran with her to take cover behind a nearby vehicle that had been turned onto its side. Ducking behind it, he looked around for Sara and Lance, catching sight of Sara's blond hair disappearing around the corner, back into the alley they had just exited.

Turning his focus back to Felicity, his eyes ran over her and he gripped her by her upper arms as she trembled beside him, shaking like a leaf.

"Are you alright?!" He asked, just as a bullet struck the tire of the vehicle, sending air hissing out of the blown tube in a rush. They both ducked their heads and it was several beats before they lifted them to look about warily as air continued to hiss from the tire.

Unable to find words, Felicity nodded. She was trembling violently, her hands shaking as she tried to fix her skewed glasses. As she moved to do so though, she winced sharply, dropping her left arm. It was then that he saw the dark stain blooming from her freshly patched shoulder.

"You must have popped a stitch." He growled, angry at himself for having thrown her to the ground so roughly – it was likely that action that had caused the stitch to break.

"Better a popped stitch than a bullet in the brain, right?" She said, finding her voice at last as she surveyed their surroundings, still shaking. Based on the look she was giving him, she'd known exactly what he had been thinking and had sought to shut down his sentiments of guilt before they could bloom. "Why are they shooting at us? Isn't it obvious by now that we aren't infected?" She asked, just as a fresh barrage of bullets peppered the car protecting them, sending her diving into his arms for cover. Leaning over her, he looked about desperately, aware that they couldn't stay here long. The gunfire was going to draw the infected – and fast.

"I think the reason they're shooting at us is because they _know_ we aren't infected." Oliver hissed, cursing himself mentally as he looked back the direction they had come and saw his bow lying in the street, right where he had dropped it when he had caught Felicity from falling.

When he turned back to look at Felicity, her eyes were wide, his words apparently having jarred her. Of course they had – she'd been in a coma. She hadn't seen the looting or the other violence that had accompanied the epidemic. She didn't know that the living were every bit as threatening as the undead were – if not more so.

"They're shooting us because _we're alive_?!" She gasped and he nodded, sitting on the balls of his feet as he contemplated making a run for his bow.

"After everything got bad, the living were almost more dangerous than the infected. People were killing each other in the streets over gallons of water and canned goods. There was gunfire everywhere. Any sense of law or morality that these people had has long since fled. I doubt matters have improved given a little time." He explained warily, shrugging off his backpack and pulling out the knife out of his boot to offer them both to Felicity. "Take these." He directed, pressing the cold blade into the palm of her hand.

Her gaze dropped to the items and she accepted them warily, though he could tell she had reservations. No small wonder; she was his IT girl, not a knife-wielding killer.

"When I tell you to, make a run for the corner of Stone and Main." He directed her, pointing with one gloved finger to be certain she knew which way he meant. As she followed the direction he pointed with her eyes, he ran his eyes over her one final time before he turned as though to go. Before he could go though, he felt her hand on his arm, holding him back as she leaned into him, only for a voice to suddenly obliterate the silence.

"If it isn't Starling City's famous Vigilante. Back from the dead, I presume?"

Oliver went stock still, his entire body rigid with tension as the familiar, accented voice boomed across the street, shattering whatever pretext of silence or abandonment had clung to it just moments before.

Looking about wildly, Oliver saw nothing he could use for a weapon, his bow still lying where he'd dropped it and most certainly well beyond his reach. Craning his head to try and see their attackers, he felt a sudden tug on his sleeve as Felicity yanked at his elbow, drawing his attention to her.

"Look." She pointed at the broken shards of the overturned car's side-view mirrors and he quickly grabbed up a piece, angling it so he could see behind the car at the building roofs and nearby streets. Turning the shard this way and that, he was surprised to find two shooters on building tops, though no people were in sight elsewhere.

_What the hell had they walked into?_

"Arrow – do you mind if I call you that?" The familiar, leering voice called out over what sounded like a handheld megaphone and Oliver had to grit his teeth as he finally placed it, blood rushing to his face as he swore the name in his mind, accompanied by a string of curses.

 _Werner Zytle_.

"I couldn't help but notice your lovely blonde traveling companion. Not the one in leather – although I see the appeal." Zytle mused with a chortle that curdled Oliver's blood. "I don't care about the Canary. Or the Captain. You can take them and leave." The voice dismissed, leaving Oliver waiting with baited breath for the other shoe to drop.

"But your blonde friend? Miss Felicity Smoak? … _She_ comes with us." Zyte leered and Oliver felt rather than saw the shock and horror registering as Felicity's hand tightened on his (he hadn't realized he'd been holding her hand, but that was another matter),

"We heard your transmission, Miss Smoak. Restoring power and communications… those are rather in demand abilities in my organization, presently. I hope you won't mind that I'm taking you from your companion. We picked up your distress call from the apartment and were on our way to you when who should we see but your green hooded friend, whisking you away? You can imagine my dismay – it wouldn't do to lose such an asset. So I will make this very simple for you – either turn yourself over to my associates and myself, or watch as your friends are ripped limb from limb by the herd of the infected heading for your current location right now. You have sixty seconds – maybe ninety, if the infected are slow. But they do seem hungry… and they're always fastest when they're hungry."

There was a sharp ' _click_ ' as the megaphone shut off and then silence came roaring back so loudly Oliver felt deafened by it.

 _Werner Zytle was here. And he was trying to take Felicity away from him_. Fear as strong as if he'd been dosed with Vertigo ripped through him and his grip on her hand tightened reflexively.

"Oliver,-" Felicity began and he shook his head violently, not about to let her contemplate this.

"No. Absolutely not, Felicity." He growled, his jaw set and hands clenched into fists as he swung to face her, glowering.

"Oliver, the infected will have heard the gunfire; you have to get out of here."

"Not without you." He growled resolutely, even as her eyebrows curved down in displeasure, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"I will _not_ let you sacrifice yourself trying to save me. This is my fault – it was _my_ transmission that they heard."

"And if it weren't for that transmission you and Captain Lance would have died." He reminded her, his heart hammering fearfully. They had seconds left before either the infected or Zytle's men came for them. Neither option would end well for him.

"I can't let you or Sara or Captain Lance get hurt because of me. I doubt they'll want another mouth to feed anyway so they won't keep me longer than they have to; I'll restore their power and then I'll send word to you." Felicity reasoned and Oliver felt his stomach flop uneasily. _She didn't know who this man was._

"Felicity, he won't let you go… That man? That's Werner Zytle." He spit the words through clenched teeth, trembling with rage at the mention of the man. "He's the one that's responsible for all of this."

The color drained out of her face as her mouth quirked open in shock, her eyes round as she processed this new information. Before she could speak though, Zytle's voice came back over the megaphone once more.

"Tick tock; you have maybe thirty or sixty seconds. I have incentive, if you need it though. Take a look."

From out of the alley, they watched as men with guns drug first Lance and then a bloodied Sara, her eyes wild with a barely constrained rage. Oliver knew that she was likely holding back only out of fear for her father's safety; if not for him, those men would have been broken faster than the blink of an eye, given Sara's hand to hand combat skills.

"Okay!" Felicity yelled, seizing Oliver's momentary distraction to leap to her feet, her hands raised before her. "You let my friends go and I will come with you, no resistance." She offered as Oliver jumped to his feet beside her, his face red with rage.

"Felicity!" He bellowed but she merely bowed her head, refusing to meet his eyes as she stepped out from behind the car, hands held level with her head as she moved. As she took another step away from him, Oliver saw her shirt shift and caught the glint of metal tucked into her waistband.

Felicity still had his knife.

"There's a smart girl." Zytle crooned over the megaphone and now, standing and facing the building, Oliver could see the man sitting in an open window, smirking as he stared down at Felicity from above. "Take her." He directed to his men, who roughly threw Captain Lance aside in favor of Felicity. Oliver took a step forward and then stopped himself as the man nearest Felicity raised a gun to her temple, effectively silencing any protests he had been about to make.

"You have ten seconds to leave or make no mistake, we _will_ shoot Miss Smoak." Zytle warned and Oliver didn't doubt the veracity of the man's claims. This was a man that had destroyed an entire city without blinking an eye. Killing Felicity, even if it cost him an effective power and communication structure, would be only a minor inconvenience to him.

"No." Oliver growled loudly, lifting his gaze to the window where Zytle sat leering down at them. "If she goes, I go."

"I don't think you're in much of a position to dictate things."

"I will come unarmed – the others will leave. But if she stays, so do I." Oliver demanded in a tone leaving no room for discussion. Wordlessly, he walked across the street and plucked up his bow from the ground. Striding to Sara, the man holding her backed off at his approach and Oliver placed the bow in her hands before sliding his quiver off and handing it to her. He spoke to her in a hurried whisper, hoping she would listen to him and not pull some harebrained stunt. Finished with his hurried instruction, he spun to leave before she could protest, his expression dark.

He clapped a hand on Captain Lance's shoulder as he passed, the two men sharing a terse nod before the father went to his daughter, sweeping an arm over her protectively. Walking back to Felicity, Oliver got down on his knees before her, placing his hands behind his head. As Zytle's men approached him, Oliver had eyes only for Felicity, staring intently into her steely blue gaze that had turned watery as he handed himself up.

"Fine. Take him." Zytle grunted over the megaphone. Oliver was aware of one of the men stepping closer to him and then a sharp pain at the back of his head made everything go black.

\-----

She wasn't really sure how long someone stayed unconscious after being clocked in the back of the head by the butt of a gun. Movies made it seem like you could be out for hours and wake up and be fine but Felicity wasn't about to stake Oliver's life on something she'd seen in movies.

Zytle's men hustled them into the building, two of them grabbing Oliver beneath the armpits to drag him inside while another prodded her along with his gun. Felicity was tempted to take the gun from him and hit him with it the way John had taught her to but that would still leave her with two goons to deal with and one very unconscious, very _heavy_ Oliver Queen.

So that plan was out.

The building was an old factory, though it seemed to have still been in use up until the time of the epidemic, judging by the state of things. Felicity was led up a metal staircase and to a large office, where Zytle was still leaning against the window, fully reclined in a black desk chair as he peered down below him in amusement.

Felicity was more concerned about the fact that the men were dragging Oliver in a different direction and it was then that she struggled, unwilling to be out of sight of him.

"Wait, no! Where are you taking him? STOP!" She yelled, fighting her captor's grip as they shuttled Oliver out of sight.

"Don't worry, Miss Smoak; if you do your job, you'll see your little hodded friend again very soon." The accented voice of Werner Zytle reached her ears, prompting her to once more turn to face him, her posture stiff and features cold. He was long of face, with jowls covered in a graying beard and mustache – the very definition of 'sleazy' if ever she'd seen one. Waving his men to bring her closer, Felicity shrugged off their arms, not wanting to be manhandled. At a motion from Zytle, the men dropped their hands from her, leaving her unencumbered as she stared down her captor with cool indifference.

"What do you want?" She demanded, bristling with fury as she regarded the man that was responsible for thousands, maybe tens of thousands of deaths across Starling City. Smirking at her, the man rose and approached her, circling her with an appraising eye, looking not unlike the cat that got the cream.

"Now, is that any way to greet the man that saved you from all of _them_?" He inquired, sweeping a hand toward the window. Felicity followed his motion, her eyes taking in the moving, dark mass below. Where only a minute or so ago she and Oliver had stood, the street was overrun with the Vertigo infected. Dozens upon dozens of them milled about, with many and more streaming in through the alley and from side streets.

_Oh god. Sara. CaptainLance._

She swallowed thickly, praying the pair had managed to escape unscathed. Trying to outrun or fight through a herd of that size was utterly unthinkable. Turning her gaze back to Werner, Felicity's eyes narrowed, anger and loathing coursing through her.

"I didn't need saving until _you_ put me in danger." She responded sharply and he chortled in response, folding his hands before him as he leaned against the wall and continued to observe her, a fact which served to unsettle her greatly. She didn't like the way he looked at her.

"Be that as it may, you – and your hooded friend – live on my good graces now. You do as I say and restore power and communications for my operation or he dies. Do you understand?" Zytle queried and Felicity gulped, terror trailing like a cold hand down her spine at the mere thought of Oliver coming to harm.

"Fine." She growled, gritting her teeth in distaste as she agreed to his terms, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "I'll do what you want. But first I want proof that the Arrow is alright. If you hurt him? I will end you." She warned, going for menacing though judging by the look on Zytle's face, she hadn't quite achieved it. Still, Zytle nodded to one of his stupid cronies (cronies? Or were they henchmen? She wasn't really sure what the going bad guy vernacular was for these guys). Grabbing her by the arm, she was tugged out of the room and dragged down the metal catwalk that overlooked the factory. Around a corner and down a ways, they finally stopped and opened the door to a storage room, shoving her inside unceremoniously. The sound of the door clicking shut carried a weight and finality to it and Felicity had a feeling she wouldn't be fetched for a while; they probably didn't want her working with the herd on their doorstep anyway.

Peering around the room, poorly illuminated by only one small window, she caught sight of him the corner, already in a sitting position as she rushed over to him.

"Oliver!" She whispered, her hands touching on his chest and arms and then his face as she took stock of him, relieved when he seemed no worse for wear, excepting any head trauma.

"How long was I out?" He croaked, still groggy as he rubbed the back of his head and winced in pain as a result. Tallying up time in her head, she frowned a moment and then made her estimation.

"Maybe three minutes?" She ventured and he nodded, leaning heavily against the wall.

"My brain's probably not scrambled too badly then." He commented in a gruff attempt at humor but she only pursed her lips in response, fear leaching away her appreciation of his attempt at comedy.

"You shouldn't have sacrificed yourself." She chided and he looked at her with raised brows.

"I was about to tell you the same thing." He murmured and she sighed heavily, shaking her head at him in only mild dismay; the man was too damn heroic for his own good. Settling beside him with her head pillowed on his shoulder, she took one of his hands in hers for comfort.

"What now?" She asked softly, trying to disguise the fear she felt building in her gut. "We're trapped with no weapons, in a building surrounded by the infected, being held captive by men with guns." She sighed, feeling entirely overwhelmed by their predicament.

Stirring beneath her, Oliver's hand trailed down her spine, his fingers moving slowly over each rounded bump of her vertebrae. Felicity shivered pleasantly at the sensation, her muscles taut with surprise as his hand continued to travel south. Somewhere, distantly, her logical side said that doing _that_ was _so_ not a good idea – this was neither the time nor the place. But her not so logical side was practically quivering with anticipation as his hand went to the waist of her jeans, his fingers curling over the band and –

His fingers gently pried the knife from the waistband of her pants and she shivered both at having forgotten that she'd put the knife there and because of what she'd _thought_ he was going for initially. Twirling the knife in his hand expertly, Oliver gave her a boyish grin and she couldn't help but wonder if he knew what he'd done to her just now.

"We aren't exactly weaponless, Felicity." He reminded her, stowing the knife in his boot before he rose on unsteady feet, followed quickly by her as she kept her hands on him, just in case he lost his balance. Not that she'd be able to catch him but hey, the thought was there.

"So you're going to take down this entire operation with just a knife?" She asked and he regarded her for a moment with a look that said he was hurt she didn't think him capable of such a feat.

"No; but I am going to get us out of here with 'just a knife'."  


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long break between chapters! The good news is, my cross-country move is now complete and so regular updates (hopefully weekly) should resume now! Thank you all for your patience and hopefully this chapter will make up for having to wait so long!

_Can't use the window – there's no ledges or fire escapes. It'd be a tough escape for me by myself, let alone with Felicity in tow._ Oliver thought to himself as he stared out of the window he had jimmied open using the knife he'd pulled off of Felicity. Looking at the drop to the ground below (and the half a dozen infected milling about to boot) he knew that the window, short of using a zipline or the like, was out as an escape route option. And even if he could somehow make his way safely down to the ground on his own using some of the pipes and loose bricks, he couldn't fathom leaving Felicity alone in the room long enough to circle around back into the building  to fight his way back to her through a mess of Zytle's thugs. All it would take would be a threat on Felicity's life to bring him to a halt and they'd be right back where they started.

So the window was a last resort. At best.

He turned the knife over in his palm as he continued to lean out the window, getting a sense of the weight of it as he thought deeply on how to get her to safety. Despite his instincts screaming at him to remove them from the place immediately, part of him wondered if they wouldn't be better off waiting. Zytle needed Felicity to set up communications and power – he wouldn't be eager to kill her, so that bought them some time to devise another plan while Felicity worked on Zytle's communication system.

Not _much_ time, mind. But _some_.

Casting a final glance to the street below, Oliver gripped the knife tightly in his hand and drove it down into the mortar between two of the bricks just beneath the window ledge. Gingerly releasing the knife's handle, he ensured that it was wedged firmly and wouldn't fall, then eased himself back inside.

As he ducked back into the room, he saw Felicity shift against the door where she stood with her ear pressed to the crack, trying to listen for the sound of their captors approaching. She'd been stationed there for the last twenty minutes or so as Oliver had investigated their temporary prison, seeking weaknesses and possible escape routes. Thus far he'd eliminated air ducts, window, the front door, and about a half a dozen hare brained ideas his mind had concocted. Undoubtedly she was growing bored of waiting for him to come up with a plan.

"Oliver?"

Leaving the window open, he glanced her way, doing his best to offer her a reassuring smile, though his heart wasn't in it – it was hard to be reassuring when fear had your heart in a chokehold.

"Felicity?" He responded crisply, her voice falling off his tongue with a familiar emphasis as he weighed the syllables on his tongue. It was then that he noticed she was fidgeting, as she was wont to do when she was nervous.

"We're stuck here, aren't we? I mean, at least for the immediate future." She queried and he tensed, in that moment hating her ability to read him when he was trying to keep secrets. It was hardly a fool proof ability, but she definitely had a knack for it.

"The window isn't exactly the ideal escape route I was hoping for but we'll make something work." He answered, doing his best to actively skirt her actual question. He didn't want to panic her with his complete lack of a plan on how to get them out of here.

"So – and forgive me if I sound like I'm questioning your judgment – why are we sticking our only weapon out the window?" She inquired, her hands doing a nervous dance before her as she waved them about in that little way of hers that made it seem like she was speaking with her hands as much as with her words.

"Felicity, you know Sara. Does she seem like the sort to just accept being told to go away and leave her friends behind?" Oliver inquired and Felicity paused, tilting her head to the side.

"Well, no – but Captain Lance is with her-"

"And he can provide her with backup." Oliver interrupted, watching in amusement as Felicity's eyebrows skyrocketed upward.

"But he's in no condition!"

"None of us are. We're all tired but Sara's not about to leave the area with half of her group still here. Trust me; she'll be looking for a sign as to where we are." Oliver explained, inclining his head towards the closed window. "And when she sees that little calling card, she'll know exactly where to find us." Oliver stated with certainty, unable to help the smirk that slipped across his features. Folding her arms before her, Felicity regarded him with an expression that said she clearly wasn't as impressed as he was.

"Oliver, how can you be sure? Sara's got her father back. I can't imagine she'd want to risk anything happening to him, even if it was in order to save you. And me too." She added as an afterthought, shrugging unhappily. "I just think she'd rather get him to safety first. Maybe drop him off with the others and then bring back Roy or Diggle for backup." Felicity sighed, giving a shake of her head before she resumed leaning on the door. "I just think maybe it's going to be a little longer than you think it will before she comes back for us."

"You're right; Sara would rather see her father to safety than drag him into a dangerous situation like this. Which is why I told her to bring him with her when she came to rescue us." Oliver felt his smirk widening as Felicity fixed him with a look of disbelief.

"You did _what_?"

"When I gave Sara my bow, I told her to look for that knife-" he jabbed a finger in the direction of the window, "-when she came to help us escape." He recalled how he'd seen the weapon in question tucked into Felicity's waistband and had seized onto it as a means of communicating with Sara after he and Felicity were taken prisoner. "And I told her to bring her father with her as backup. Sara's not good at asking for help even when she needs it. And this time, she'll need it." Oliver explained as Felicity continued looking at him incredulously.

"Oliver, you shouldn't have asked her to do that. He's her father. You're asking her to endanger someone she loves."Felicity chided him and in a fit of irritated passion, he snapped back sharply at her.

"You're one to talk." He growled and she froze, regarding him in confusion.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You showed no hesitation putting _yourself_ in danger. Do you have any idea how I felt when you volunteered yourself up to Zytle?! He could have killed you, Felicity!" He asked incredulously and she stared at him wordlessly, mouth agape as she struggled to respond.

"Are you seriously asking me that? _You_ , of all people? Of course I know how that feels! Do you think I enjoy having my heart in my throat behind that keyboard, listening to people punch you? Do you think I enjoy hearing people _shooting_ at you? Do you have any idea how it feels to sit there, helplessly listening, terrified that this is the time you won't make it back alive?" She bristled with fury, her whole body trembling as she crept closer to him, an accusatory finger jabbing the air in his direction with each step she took closer to him.

She stopped a few stride lengths away from him, still shaking like a leaf but still carrying herself with the utmost of conviction despite it. Oliver had felt himself wilting with each word, realizing how hypocritical he was being as she turned the tables on him. At the same time, he was stunned to hear her side of things, her own fear and compassion wrapped up in one hard hitting verbal assault.

With her still standing opposite him, wound up, angry, and scared, he looked at her solemnly before he lowered his gaze, a silent admission of defeat.

Before he had the opportunity to attempt apologizing to her, a sound from outside the room drew their attention away, prompting both of their heads to whip towards the sound. Felicity darted back to the door, pressing her ear against it furtively. A frantic wave from her confirmed that someone was coming and Oliver hurriedly yanked the window back into place, securing it just in time to throw himself onto the floor in the corner, Felicity following suit a moment later. She landed beside him with a thud and he had time enough to curl a protective arm around her before the lock sounded. He felt his hood lift up to cover his face as her fingers tugged it into place just as the door to their prison swung open.

Hugging Felicity to his side, Oliver watched as three men became visible in the now open doorway. They all seemed hesitant to enter the room but they were more than eager to lift their weapons menacingly, the wordless warning all too clear to Oliver.

One wrong move and these men wouldn't hesitate to use lethal force.

Oliver had accepted many losses but the loss of Felicity wasn't one he'd ever deem acceptable. So other than a visible bristling at their entrance, he showed no inclination of violence towards their captors. It was a short lived lack of inclination, however.

"The girl comes with us."

Oliver was on his feet in an instant, his teeth bared as a feral, protective urge stormed through him as he shielded Felicity from them with his body. Three clicking sounds followed as the three men each turned off the safety on their respective weapons. A soft hand touched at Oliver's back and he half turned to see Felicity on her feet, staring at him imploringly. As if the feather light touch of her hand wasn't enough to force him to exercise restraint; she was giving him her sad eyes.

Damn. She was good.

Leaning in to kiss the side of his face, she took advantage of their closeness and whispered to him frantically in a voice too low for the men to hear.

"I'll try and get an idea of the building's layout. I'll be okay. Just don't do anything risky."  She pulled away then and took a step towards them, only for Oliver to follow, his hand enclosing on hers and tugging her behind him protectively.

"If you hurt a single hair on her head I will hunt you down and kill you all. Slowly." He warned and they glanced at each other not entirely convinced, then back at him.

"Thought I heard the police say the hood guy didn't kill anymore when they pardoned you, huh?" One of them ventured and Oliver could feel Felicity's hand tensing as she buried her face between his shoulder blades, clearly mortified at the stupidity of their captors. Taking another step closer to them but still maintaining a safe distance, Oliver drew himself up, regarding them from beneath the shadow of his hood with baleful eyes.

"You heard wrong."

The men shifted uneasily but tried to keep up brave fronts. One of them waved Felicity forward and she started to move, only to be brought up short by Oliver's hand on hers.

"She needs medical attention." He informed the men bluntly, stepping aside to point at the dark spot of blood where Felicity's shoulder wound had popped a stitch in the scuffle and confusion of earlier. "I suggest you secure medical care for her or my earlier threat will be a reality for you." He growled, finally releasing his hold on Felicity and stepping aside grudgingly. They shared a lingering look as she passed by, her fingers slipping through his in a simple gesture that felt incredibly intimate.

He watched her go with gritted teeth and fingers tightly bound into fists, every cell in his body screaming that he shouldn't let them take her. As the door closed between them, he stormed back to the window, fuming.

Wherever they were, Sara and Captain Lance needed to hurry.

\-----

The minute the door closed between her and Oliver, Felicity felt her heart rate quicken, fear leaching her courage with astounding speed. Felicity felt uneasy being away from Oliver. She wasn't so much worried about herself (though her own safety was a concern, no bones about it). She was more concerned about what kind of risks he would take without her there to rein him in.

Though really, if anyone ought to be scared, it was her captors. She knew all too well what her partner was capable of – they clearly did not.

"Ah Miss Smoak."

The drawling voice made a shiver run from her head down to her toes as Werner Zytle stepped out from his office, regarding her with a smirk dripping with condescension.

"What do you want?" She queried bluntly, pain and anger having robbed her of any energy she had to play games with _this_ man0.  He didn't seem upset by her bluntness as he swaggered forward, flanked by two more of his goons. (Goons? Cronies? Henchmen? She still hadn't landed on the appropriate term for them).

"Not one for pleasantries, I see. Very well Felicity – may I call you Felicity?" He queried, drawing out the syllables of her name in a way that made her shiver – and not the good kind. Without bothering to wait for her response, he carried on, sweeping a hand towards a room at the end of the catwalk. "This, Felicity, is my communications room. You will see that no one is working the controls. That would be owing to the fact that this HAM radio has not worked since I procured it. Nor have our walkie talkies." Zytle explained with a flourish, indicating a row of walkie talkies along one wall.

Despite herself, Felicity found herself stepping forward, hands outstretched as she took in the small but packed room before her.

"That… that is a _commercial grade_ HAM radio… Aka totally illegal." Felicity mused shrewdly, casting an inauspicious glance Zytle's way, to which the man smirked proudly.

"As you will have no doubt surmised by now, I work outside of the law. Or I did; not much 'law' to be had these days." He chortled, prompting Felicity to set her jaw angrily and inhale slowly to calm herself.

Punching this man in the face would not help matters. Punching him in his stupid, smug face would not bring back those who had been killed, and punching his ugly mug definitely wouldn't help her and Oliver get out of here safely.

But _damn_ did she wish it would.

Moving forward, she fiddled with the controls of the radio for a moment before she pried off a panel to get a better look at the circuitry. Looking it over, she found herself pursing her lips as she stared at her newfound project, which was quickly starting to feel like an Everest-esque challenge. Straightening, she turned back to Zytle and his men, her voice rising above them in the confined space.

"Yeah well, see if your 'outside the law' goons there can find me a lead based soldering iron, needle nose pliers, clamps, wire strippers, solder wicks, multimeters, flush cutters…. And a pink eraser." She finished with a sigh as she surveyed the equipment she was supposed to make work, feeling woefully underprepared for such a gargantuan task – given their limited resources.

When she looked up again, the half circle of men were all still staring at her uncomprehendingly and she widened her eyes and flapped her arms at them impatiently.

"What part of that was unclear?"

They reacted then, Zytle's men sharing confused glances before they shuttled away, leaving Zytle and one thug surveying Felicity much too intently for her liking. She pretended to fiddle with a few wires, though she knew that without the tools she had requested, she wasn't going to accomplish anything. Still, better to look occupied than make small talk with the likes of these men. Zytle pursed his lips as he watched her shrewdly, then turned to the man on his right.

"Don't let her out of your sight; if she tries to escape, blow her brains out." He directed coldly, prompting Felicity to shiver as her captor breezed away his footsteps echoing on the catwalk behind her. Left alone with her one captor and a definite absence of tools, she surveyed the mess of wires before her intently and then set to work, anxious to take advantage of however much time she had without prying eyes watching her every move.

Zytle might know a thing or two about the HAM radio before her. But by the looks they'd given her, none of his cronies did. If she could get the thing working? Well, she'd be able to send a coded message out – either to Sara or Lyla or both – and Zytle would be none the wiser.

It wasn't an escape plan, but it was the best she could do to help get her and Oliver out of this mess.

"Hey _Zytle_." Felicity called, hearing the footsteps beyond stop, though no answering response came. "If you want me to fix your illegal radio, someone needs to go work on the antenna." She announced loudly, shooting a pointed stare at her guard.

There was a murmured conversation from beyond and then the goon Zytle had left her with was joined by Zytle and another guard.

"Well then, _Felicity_. It looks like you're going on the roof then, aren't you?" Zytle chortled and though she had tried to play it cool, Felicity knew her eyes were bulging in surprise as the horror of Zytle's words washed over her.

He was going to send her outside. On the roof. On the roof the building that was currently surrounded by a swarm of the infected.

'Frack' didn't even begin to cover it.

\-----

He'd spent his nervous energy pacing the room from the moment they'd taken Felicity away, his eyes swinging to the window each time he passed it. And each time, he was rewarded only with blank space, no sign of Sara or her father.

After what seemed eons, his impatience got the better of him and with a grunt, Oliver forced the window open so he could stare at the pipe running up the building just beyond the window. Making his way to the roof or to the ground would be a hassle with the pipe alone for a hold. He certainly wouldn't be able to move quickly – if his captors came to check on him before he rescued Felicity, he'd never make it back in time and then they would leverage Felicity against him as a hostage.

Not a risk he was willing to take.

Grabbing the knife up from where he'd wedged it into the ledge, he was contemplating breaking the lock on the door when the grapple flew through the window and thudded against the far wall before it retracted, the hooks latching smoothly onto the window sill before the rope went taut. The grapple's sudden arrival was hardly unexpected but despite himself, Oliver jumped in surprise, surveying the rope approvingly as he leaned out the window.

A flicker of blonde hair on the roof of the adjacent building caught his eye and he watched as Sara raced across the roof, her arms pumping as she picked up speed. He couldn't see what she was running _to_ but Oliver's gut told him it couldn't be good.

The sound of gunfire ricocheting off of the roof around Sara confirmed his suspicions.

He swung out the window and down the rope, the leather of his gloves turning hot from the friction of the rope. By the time he reached the opposite roof, he had to rip them off his hands, so strong was the heat of them. Flexing his fingers, he glanced about and saw Sara had left his bow and quiver for him.

"Hey, Arrow!"

Quentin Lance's voice ripped Oliver from his thoughts, his head whipping up to meet the Captain, who was kneeling behind a swamp cooler a few meters from where Oliver had landed.

"You gotta go help her!" Lance shouted, gesturing with his hand. Oliver followed Lance's pointing and his eyes landed on the roof of the factory building.

A tall antenna had been erected at the building's highest point and it was here that he saw several figures silhouetted against the late afternoon sun. When recognition finally dawned on him, Oliver felt his stomach fall to his feet.

Upon the rooftop of the factory, three or four of Zytle's men were stationed with guns – far more than had been there when Oliver and his group had passed by on the ground some hours ago. Even as Oliver watched, Zytle's men squeezed off half a dozen rounds as they aimed at Sara, doing their level best to fell the blonde as she ducked and dodged her way across the rooftops.

"What happened?" Oliver bellowed at Lance, watching as the Captain peered out from behind the cooler.

"They caught sight of us the minute we got within range! Sara tried to draw them off. She had me fire the grappling hook at the window so you could get out once she had them distracted!" Lance explained and Oliver felt his throat constrict with guilt.

Of course; Zytle had upped the number of guards. _Damn him_.

"I'm going back in." Oliver growled and Lance poked his head back into view, his eyes wild as he regarded the Vigilante.

"What do you mean you're going back in? My daughter needs help!" Lance accused and Oliver swallowed thickly.

"I have to get Felicity."

"You mean she isn't with you?" Lance queried and Oliver shook his head, his eyes downcast.

"They separated us." Oliver muttered by way of explanation, watching as Lance looked from Oliver to Sara and then back again.

"You go back in. I'll lay down some cover fire once you're in. That'll draw some of the heat away from Sara." He reasoned and Oliver nodded, looking at the police captain gratefully.

"I owe you, Captain."

"Yeah. Ain't that the truth." Lance muttered back.

Grabbing an arrow from his quiver, Oliver sent the grappling arrow flying confidently, his body tensing as he soared over the gap between the buildings, doing his level best to ignore the growing number of infected accumulating in the alley around the building. With all the gunfire, he knew only more would come. Their window of escape was growing narrower and narrower with every passing minute. He needed to find Felicity and get her out of here.

Landing back on the ledge of the window, he pulled himself inside and flashed a thumbs up to Lance. Making a beeline for the door, he heard the sound of Lance's gun firing behind him and he knew that the Captain had begun to aid his daughter. Sara would probably have his head for letting her father do that but it was necessary.

Oliver would rather ask forgiveness than permission anyway.

He used the knife to undo the lock on the door, pushing it open quietly as he slipped onto the metal catwalk beyond, his eyes peering this way and that in the dark. Still, there was no sign of his blonde IT girl and he could feel his heart hammering with increasing urgency as his worries grew.

He fired off arrows in quick succession when he spotted a few of Zytle's men but even after sweeping the second floor, he hadn't found her. Descending the stairs to the ground floor, he began to sweep it too, bringing down another three men. With only one zone of the first floor left to sweep, Oliver was becoming desperate – there was still no sign of Felicity. Or Zytle.

He slipped into the final room, the door closing behind him with a soft 'click'. His bow held aloft, he paced down the center of the room, all concerns for the element of surprise thrown aside as he hunted his prey.

One of Zytle's men appeared from out of a storage closet in the room and in a quick pull of the bowstring, Oliver fired an arrow into the man's knee, bringing him to the ground with a sharp cry of pain. Stalking forward, Oliver kicked the man over onto his back and then placed his boot threateningly on the man's neck.It was then that he recognized the man as one of the three that had come to fetch Felicity earlier.

"Where did Werner Zytle take her?" He demanded as the man writhed on the floor in pain, his face turning red with anger as he glared up at Oliver.

"He took her to the roof." The man spat, his hands clenching on his knee and doing the best that he could to staunch the blood flowing from his wound.

"Why?" Oliver demanded and the man shook his head. _Not good enough_. In one quick motion, Oliver bent forward and ripped the arrow out of the man's knee, prompting him to yowl in pain as the blood flowed freely from the now open wound.

"Ahh-Okay! OKAY! He took her to work on the antenna. He didn't trust her enough to send one of us to do it; he thought it was a trap, some sort of ploy she had concocted to get herself rescued." The man explained and Oliver felt his blood go cold.

_On the roof_. Felicity was with _Werner Zytle._ On the roof. With the men shooting at Sara and Lance. With the men that Lance and Sara were actively trying to kill.

The words 'collateral damage' sprang to mind and sent Oliver's hair to standing on end. Wasting no time, Oliver delivered a sharp kick and then a powerful punch to the man, effectively knocking him unconscious. As he turned away from him to leave, Oliver growled over his shoulder.

"I warned you what would happen if you didn't take care of her." Oliver spat as he stalked away, intent only on reaching Felicity.

Oliver raced for the roof, all concerns of the element of surprise disregarded as he threw himself up the metal stairs and across the catwalk, looking for the roof access ladder. He could still hear the sounds of gunfire from just outside, could hear the ricochet of missing bullet skidding off of metal panels on the roof above. But as he climbed the rungs of the ladder to take him to the roof, the gunfire quieted and everything outside seemed to grow dangerously still.

He lifted the access door panel open slowly, careful to move quietly as he pulled himself onto the roof in a tight crouch. Just beyond, he could see Zytle's men – one bleeding and lying hunched on the ground, two others still manning their guns. The fourth was nowhere in sight, but judging from the smear of blood, Oliver guessed he'd taken a bullet and fallen off the roof. But the fact that he was outnumbered by several men with a proclivity for firearms did not scare Oliver Queen in that moment, didn't make his heart stop and cold dread seep deep into his bones.

The sight of Werner Zytle, one hand on Felicity's neck and the other on a gun pressed against her temple did though.

The arrow was fitted to the bow before he was conscious he'd even moved. But just as he began to release the arrow, he felt pain burn through his shoulder. His body recoiled instinctively from the pain and the movement jarred the arrow just as he was about to release it. As Oliver watched, the arrow flew through the air, catching Zytle not in the chest, as he had intended, but in the shoulder.

Oliver threw himself forward, his legs churning as he raced towards Felicity and Zytle. He felt as though he were watching the scene unfold before him almost in slow motion. Zytle flinched in pain, his grip on Felicity loosening as the hand not holding the gun instead went to the arrow now embedded in his shoulder.

Momentarily freed, Felicity spun in place, her eyes meeting Oliver's just before Zytle looked up to see him. More gunfire sounded but it was dull in Oliver's ears, his whole focus on Felicity as his hands let loose another arrow, this one with a grappling line attached.

She collided into him and wrapped her arms around him just as the rope grew taut. And with bullets still roaring in his ears, Oliver held onto her tight and threw both of them off the edge of the roof. The air whistled in his ears as they swung across the open air towards what destination, god only knew. He wrapped his body around hers, turning their bodies so that his good shoulder would absorb the blow.

And what a blow it was.

They collided with the side of the nearby building, and he felt the air rush out of him in a loud _whoosh_ as both her weight and his slammed him into the building – hard. Dangling in midair, he struggled to breathe again, still holding her tight as he repelled them a dozen feet to the right, where he could see a window ledge.

"Hold onto me." He growled and from her vantage point with her head tucked against his chest, he heard her muffled response.

"You don't need to tell me twice."

It might have made him chuckle. If they weren't dangling high above a street full of Vertigo-infected corpses. And if Werner Zytle and his men weren't on the opposite roof still trying to kill them.

He kicked at the window repeatedly until at last the cracking noise informed him that he was nearly there. Another solid kick and they tumbled inside the room, Felicity still clinging to his neck as he unhooked from the grapple line.

"Oliver, I-" She began, only for him to shake his head at her.

"Not now."

He pulled the knife he'd given her earlier out of his boot and pressed it once more into her hands, pulling her behind him as he dutifully swept the room. They couldn't stay here long – that much he knew. Zytle's men would not hesitate to come after them the moment that they had a chance to. But given that the factory Zytle was holed up in was now surrounded by a sea of the infected, they had time to at least stop and catch their breath before they continued their escape.

And given everything? Oliver definitely needed to catch his breath alright. With the room swept and found clear, Oliver relaxed enough to slide his quiver off of his shoulder and rifled through it, relief sweeping through him as he spotted the walkie talkie.

God bless Sara and her foresight.

"Songbird, this is Archer. I have Smoking Gun. You are clear to retreat. Over." He growled, releasing the button on the walkie and praying that he'd get a response. The soft crackle of static met his patience and then, after an eternity.

"I copy, Archer. Songbird and Captain Blue falling back. Over."

Oliver relaxed then, some of the tension that he'd been carrying finally leaching out of his body as he turned slowly to regard Felicity who, other than her popped stitch from earlier, seemed no worse for wear.

"You're bleeding." Felicity murmured quietly, approaching him timidly, her hands going to his shoulder. Other than a small wince, he didn't respond as her fingers gently prodded at the tear in the leather of his jacket.

"It hurts less than some things." He murmured quietly, prompting her to lift her eyes from her doctoring up to meet his gaze. Her brows raised questioningly and he offered her a tired smile, happy that she was alive and well and away from Werner Zytle. "I'm sorry, Felicity."

Her brows lifted still higher and her lips parted in surprise as she regarded him uncertainly, clearly taken aback that the first thing he was doing after rescuing her was reminding her of their earlier argument.

"Y-You're sorry? I'm the one that got us into this mess, Oliver." She responded guiltily and he shook his head dismissively.

"Not that; I mean… I got a taste of what it's been like for you all this time. The waiting and the not knowing while the person you care about is in danger." He mused, lifting one hand to twine in one of hers in a small act that felt intensely intimate. "I don't know how you do it. I was terrified for you the entire time. So if I ever made you feel one fraction as scared as I did today… I'm sorry."

He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles, enjoying the shy smile that spread across her lips at the gesture. And it didn't matter in that moment that Werner Zytle and his hired guns were still a mere stone's throw away. It didn't matter that he was injured and bleeding. It mattered that _she_ was alive and well. And Oliver intended on keeping her that way.

"An apology from the Arrow himself. I'm flattered." She whispered in a weak bid for humor to mask the emotion she clearly felt, elicited by the genuine nature of his apology. Smiling at her, he shook his head and brushed one hand across her cheek as he lowered his face towards hers.

"Felicity Smoak, you are rema-."

"Songbird to Archer. Captain Blue and I are clear. We are proceeding to Rendevzous Point Charlie. Over." Sara's voice interrupted them, crackling to life in the empty room. Oliver tore his eyes from Felicity and grabbed up the walkie once more.

"I copy Songbird. Smoking Gun and Archer proceeding to Rendevzous Point Charlie. Radio silent from here on. Over and out." Oliver answered, flipping off the walkie talkie and shoving it back in his quiver before he returned his attention to Felicity.

"Let's get out of here." He said softly, and she gave him a soft bob of her head as she fell into step behind him.


	12. Chapter 12

"No matter what happens, stay behind me. And if I tell you to do something, do it." Oliver murmured to her as they crouched at the side entrance door of the building they had ziplined to. Felicity hesitated for a moment and then nodded.

Oliver took the lead, easing the door open the barest of margins so he could peer outside. Felicity wasn't sure what he saw but when he eased the door closed and buried his face in his hands, she knew it couldn't be anything good.

But he was also afraid of her getting hurt. And that meant he wasn't willing to take any risks. But they were only going to survive if they took a risk – Zytle and his men were going to storm the building to find them the minute they were able. And Felicity for one did _not_ want to see how unkindly Zytle took to being used for target practice.

"Oliver," she reached a hand towards him, touching his good shoulder lightly and giving it a gentle squeeze. He lifted his eyes to her, his expression pained, "I'm not afraid of whatever is out there. Not as long as I'm with you." She assured, letting her hand trail down his arm so she could grip his hand and squeeze it tightly to reassure him.

"Felicity, the infected-"

"Are everywhere. I know. But I'd rather take my chances with them than Zytle – wouldn't you?" She mused shrewdly and he sighed, hanging his head. She knew he was desperately searching for some alternative but they were running short on options.

"It's okay, Oliver." She murmured and when he rose, she knew she had broken him.

"If anything happens, you need to rendezvous with Sara and Captain Lance. Meet them at the Wildcat Gym on 9th and Hasen." Oliver explained and belatedly, Felicity pressed a finger to his lips.

"Nothing is going to happen. We're getting out of here. Together." She stated firmly. Sharing a meaningful look, she stepped closer to him as his focus shifted back to the door. When he opened it this time, he slid out into the street beyond with confidence, his bow raised as he began firing rapidly – though not without pain. Though he tried to muffle it, she heard his sharp intake of breath as the use of his wounded shoulder no doubt sent shockwaves of pain through his body.

Neither of them had time to dwell on pain, however.

The infected were everywhere – though not swarming as thickly here as they were at the base of the factory Zytle occupied, they were so abundant Felicity felt cold fear circulating in her bloodstream in an instant. The knife Oliver had given her was clutched before her and her grip on it tightened as she took in the sea of slack jawed, infected faces. And as one of the infected came staggering towards Oliver's turned back, Felicity finally had cause to use the knife she'd been given.

She jabbed with it as fiercely as she could, throwing all of her weight behind the blow as she shoved the knife through the infected man's open mouth, driving it up and into his brain. Biting back a whimper, Felicity wrenched the knife away, tugging once and then twice before her weapon came free.

Felicity nearly tripped over the bodies of the infected Oliver had felled, so swift had he been in dispensing a merciful end to their suffering. But even as she stumbled after him, she saw him fire off the last arrow in his quiver, reaching for and finding no additional arrows waiting for him.

As he turned to face her, Felicity tossed Oliver her knife.

"I'll get the arrows!" She cried as she bent towards the nearest corpse, her hands gripping the feathered shaft jutting out from the woman's frontal lobe. Closing her eyes, Felicity pulled and with a slick 'pop' the arrow came free.

_I don't ever want to get used to this_. She thought faintly, darting forward to the next corpse with minimal delay. She moved as quickly as she could, her own wound sending shooting pain through her body as she wrenched and tugged and pulled the arrows free. All the while, Felicity did her best to try to tune out the grunts and thuds around her as Oliver did his best to hold back the oncoming infected.

"Felicity-" he ground out as he shoved away one of the infected, swinging at the man's head with the knife and missing as he was forced to dodge a grasping hand from a different infected corpse.

"Here!" She exclaimed, slamming all but one arrow into his quiver, the remaining one held out before her for him to take. He tossed her the knife and with relief, he fitted the arrow she had offered him to his bow.

"I think we need to make our exit now." He grumbled, firing off three shots in rapid succession. "On my count, run for the main street." He directed, smashing one infected teenager in the face with his bow. "NOW!"

Her muscles were screaming in protest as, together, they raced down the alley toward the street, but Felicity pushed herself onward. As they ran, Oliver kept a hand on her good arm, half tugging her as they went. A quarter of the way, she felt his stride falter. Just as quickly, he caught himself and continued to barrel down the narrow pathway.

It wasn't until they were nearly three quarters of the way through that she heard them.

She had found it discomfiting – the level of absolute quiet that the streets had achieved in the wake of the epidemic. Now it was punctuated by something else, equally terrifying as the gunfire had been.

The noises of the infected.

Their breathing was a loud rattling sound – likely from blood that had pooled in their lungs prior to death – their footsteps were uneven and heavy (the term _'deadweight'_ came to mind and made her feel ill). It was the shuffling she heard first – the sound of many pairs of dragging, moving feet paired with the telltale rasping breaths. Felicity's hair stood on end, a cold chill stealing up her spine and making her skin prickle into gooseflesh as Oliver's hand on her arm tightened and they both slid to a stop in the middle of the main street.

Before them, a herd unlike anything Felicity had yet seen lingered. Easily hundreds of the infected, in varying stages of decay, were milling about, seemingly without purpose.

Until that moment.

Felicity and Oliver's movement and the noise they had made seemed to magnetize the infected, drawing them nearer. Already they were stirring, their rasping breaths becoming growls and moans as they began to turn and shift their focus to the pair of living before them. Here was a parade of starving creatures and the two of them had just run headfirst into this crowd, a feast ready to be devoured by the dead.

So maybe she was wrong. Maybe she could be scared – _even if_ she was with the man that made her feel safest.

They were frozen in place for the briefest of moments before Oliver was spinning beside her, turning this way and that as he checked for someplace they could escape to. But before he had finished, Felicity already knew what he would find.

There was nowhere to go; this was the industrial part of town - none of the buildings had windows on the ground floor and even if they had, none of them offered safety, still filled with the infected as they likely were. There were no fire escapes to climb up and Oliver had no more jettisoning arrows to get them to the rooftops. Short of sprouting wings, there was no way of going over the oncoming herd. This was a part of town that had had nothing to offer before the epidemic and now, mid-epidemic? All they'd find here were factories, decay, and trash.

_Trash_!

She saw Oliver draw his bow in her peripheral vision but before he could fire, she threw out a hand to stop him, instead hauling him towards the alley across the way. They had to hurry – if the infected rounded the corner while they were in sight, all would be lost.

Oliver was the brawn of their operation, but Felicity was the brains.

"I have an idea!" She whispered breathlessly, dragging him along after her as she sprinted down the narrow apace.

Unspeaking, she guided him towards one of the two industrial sized dumpsters set in the alley. Catching her train of thought, he pulled the lid open and without a word of warning, he boosted her inside, following after her with a tidy leap.

Once inside, he pulled the lid down low, leaving it cracked the tiniest bit so that the two of them could just barely see out. Without thinking, Felicity reached for his free hand, finding it in the darkness and curling her fingers around it tightly.

They came quickly; dozens upon dozens of them, Vertigo infected corpses bathed in blood and grime, clothes torn, limbs missing or askew. The sound of their breathing made her stomach lurch and Felicity had to swallow back the bile rising in her throat.

They passed in front of the dumpster and through the alley, bound for the street or some destination unknown. With baited breath, she waited, terrified she would hear the sound of the infected pounding on their dumpster haven. Felicity kept her hand in Oliver's gloved palm, squeezing it tightly as they watched the many faces pass by. Felicity was acutely aware of her overpowering sense of fear, could feel the way it traced down her spine like a physical presence, cold and paralyzing as it moved through her body like a toxin. The infected were everywhere, all around them, and she couldn't move, could hardly breathe.

Her brain felt ripped in two by her rational mind and her suddenly overpowering fight or flight instincts that begged her to flee, to run and never stop. But looking at the endless sea of the dead parading by them, Felicity knew that running would only bring death faster, not prolong life.

And so she remained stationary, clutching Oliver's hand as tightly as she could, desperately wishing that they were _anywhere_ but here.

At some point – she wasn't sure when, exactly-she must have begun to tremble. _Violently_. It wasn't until Oliver reached a hand to her face and forced her to look at him instead of the infected passing by them that she realized it. His hand was steady and warm against her cheek, her whole body shaking like a leaf and terribly.

_"Look. At. Me."_ He whispered the words so softly she could hardly hear him even with her face a hair's breadth away. In the almost complete darkness, she couldn't see his eyes but she could feel his gaze and she returned it, staring unseeingly into the dark of the dumpster. Nodding jerkily, she tried to focus on him, on the warmth of his hand in hers, the feel of his other hand on her face. Anything other than the sea of corpses passing dangerously close to them.

_Look at Oliver_. She reminded herself, exhaling as quietly as she could, her heart pounding as she passed her tongue over her cracked and dry lips. Doing so summoned to mind the memory of his lips on hers when he'd kissed her on the rooftop after rescuing her. _Good_. She needed to think about that. That was definitely a better alternative than dwelling on what was just outside.

If she was going to be trapped in a dumpster with someone, surrounded by the infectious dead, she was glad it was him. His hand fell away from her face, his arm instead coiling protectively over her as he pulled her body towards him in the cramped confines of their shelter. Pressing her head against his chest, she focused on the sound of his heartbeat, fixating on it instead of the rattling breathing sounds of the Vertigo victims just outside.

She lost herself in his heartbeat, lost herself so thoroughly that she didn't notice when the death rattle of the infected breathing ceased to sound. She didn't notice when the sound of their footsteps faded away, or when their chilling moans vanished. It wasn't until Oliver murmured her name quietly in the dark that her world expanded beyond his heartbeat.

"Felicity," he whispered quietly not for the first time, "they're gone... We're safe." He assured her, letting her slowly uncoil herself from him before he lifted the lid and peered out, giving a final sweep of the alley before he lifted the hood back entirely and clambered out. He waited tersely for several long seconds, staring defiantly in the direction of Zytle's factory, which was only just barely visible over the top of the buildings they were by now. Returning his focus to her, Oliver offered her his hands and then lifted her easily from the trash filled container, smiling tightly as he plucked a banana peel off of her shoulder.

"None the worse for wear." He tried to be encouraging but the tension in his voice betrayed his worry. They had no mode of transportation, they were both injured, separated from half of their group, and they had to stick to the streets until they were well away from Zytle's factory – which meant the safety of the rooftops was off limits still for several Vertigo-infected blocks.

Worry was more than justified.

"What about Sara and Captain Lance?" Felicity asked uneasily, her voice catching nervously. Oliver's eyes slid to the safe end of the alley and then back to her.

"We'll find them." He assured her, shepherding her down the alley and back the way they'd come.

\-----

They were running on empty by the time they reached the gym roughly an hour later. By that time, Oliver's leathers were splattered in red – some of it his own blood from his bullet wound and some of it from putting down so many of the infected. Lacking the time or the equipment to tend to his wound properly, Felicity had done her best to pack the area to try and staunch the bleeding and they'd been on their way.

The streets around the gym were mostly empty, many of the infected in this region of town having apparently joined the massive herd that Felicity and Oliver had narrowly avoided earlier. Still, by the time they arrived on the corner of 9th and Hasen, Oliver's quiver was down to a measly seven arrows and the Arrow himself was dizzy with blood loss and exhaustion.

"Felicity, grab the walkie talkie from my quiver." He directed, breathing heavily as they limped towards their destination, nursing their wounds and weariness. She complied without a word, placing the walkie in his waiting palm as they peered into the tinted windows of the gym, unable to make out much of the interior.

"Archer to Songbird. We are at the rendezvous point. Over." Oliver exhaled, leaning his forehead against the front window of the gym and squinting inside warily.

_Silence_.

"Archer to Songbird, I repeat. We are at the rendezvous point." Oliver sighed, kicking the wall of the building in anger when static and silence met his words.

"You said you were going radio silent – they probably did the same thing." Felicity offered encouragingly and Oliver hung his head.

Sensing his quickly flagging spirits, Felicity peered inside the gym once more, still unable to make out anything in the darkness. Sending a glance Oliver's way, she found he was still staring at the sidewalk and so she made an executive decision. Curling her fingers into a fist, she rapped hard on the gym window, prompting Oliver's head to shoot up, his eyes wide.

"Felicity!" He hissed, just as she knocked on the window once again.  She paused and looked at him, shrugging nonchalantly.

"I figure if there's anything in there, it'll react to the s-"

A slam on the other side of the window made them both jump as a pair of hands appeared, reaching for them on the other side of the glass. Even as they watched, the infected man pressed his face to the glass, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly as he tried to bite them through the window. After another minute when no other infected had joined him, Oliver glanced at Felicity.

"You open the door for me; I'll go in and clear it. Stay here until I give the all clear." He directed.

"I'm going with you." She objected and before Oliver could say anything, she shook her head and went to the door. "We're not separating; I'll be right behind you." She insisted, her fingers wrapping around the handle of the gym door. Certain she had his attention, she yanked on the door, only for it to rattle in place and stay closed. She tried again before she kicked the door once, then threw her good shoulder into it for good measure. Throwing the entirety of her weight backwards, she yanked with all of her might. There was a sharp _crack_ and then the beat up door's old lock popped free and the door swung open.

Oliver slid by her fast and silent as a shadow and Felicity, who had been thrown back by the force of the door opening, had to hurry to keep pace with him as she went inside behind him. In the light from the window, she watched as he pinned the infected man against one wall and jammed an arrow head through his eye, tugging it free before he let the body slide to the floor.

"Felicity?"

"I'm here." She answered, touching a hand between his shoulder blades. As she did so, he seemed to relax beneath her touch, visibly relieve that she was alright and still had his back.

"There's a flashlight in the quiver." He directed and she wasted no time in retrieving it, clicking it on and blinking as the resulting beam of light illuminated the dingy space.

Workout equipment lined the walls and a boxing ring dominated the center of the space. There was no sign of anyone else, living or otherwise, and for that alone, Felicity might have been relieved – were they not still looking for Sara and the Captain.

"No sign of them." Felicity sighed, and Oliver nodded glumly, stalking forward to do a more thorough sweep, she assumed. She trudged behind him wearily, noting that his stride too was labored. They needed rest, they needed food and drink.

_They needed to find Sara and Captain Lance._

"Don't be so sure about that." A familiar voice sounded as a door creaked open just ahead of them and another flashlight's beam came into view. The resulting glow illuminated just enough of the Captain's weary features for her to see his grim smile as he laid eyes on them.

He looked more haggard than he had the last time she'd seen him and as the door opened further and she saw Sara behind him, holding him up, Felicity saw why.  He was moving gingerly and his left arm was in a sling that looked to be made from a garbage bag. Sara kept her eyes trained on him as they limped out from the small office area they'd been holed up in, not looking away until Oliver spoke.

"I'm glad you're both okay."

He'd turned on his voice modulator again to say it but Felicity could still hear the relief in Oliver's voice as the two groups were once more reunited. Sara turned to look at him, her eyes flashing as she drew herself up to stare him down.

"If you value our friendship? Don't ask me to do something like that again. Ever." Sara warned, bitterness lending a sharp edge to her voice as she stared down her friend, who had once more pulled up his hood to further hide his identity from Quentin Lance. Oliver met her gaze and dipped his head in a single nod; Felicity knew all too well that he had not enjoyed asking Sara to risk her father but that he had found it necessary. That made it no easier a pill for Sara to swallow, however, and Felicity understood that as well.

"Thank you."

The words caught both women off guard and Felicity saw Sara do a double take as she looked at Oliver with wide eyes, clearly surprised that he had taken the time to thank her. Before she could get a word in edgewise though, the Captain scooted forward, wrapping his good arm around Felicity in a warm hug.

"Boy am I glad to see you in one piece. That Zytle fella – he do anything to you?" Lance asked, a protective note creeping into his voice, prompting Felicity to smile shyly and shake her head.

"He didn’t get the chance, thanks to you three."

"Hey, only reason we were there is 'cause you got us outta that scrape to begin with. We'd all have been in deep if it weren't for you. It was brave, what you did." Lance encouraged, flashing her a tired smile.

"Don't you mean it was foolhardy?" Felicity asked, a touch morose; she still felt incredibly guilty. They'd all only gotten injured and separated because she'd turned herself over to Zytle. If she hadn't… maybe they'd have escaped the first time and been fine. She might have just caused them a giant, unnecessary headache. Better yet, if she had never made that radio transmission in the first place, they probably never would have been a target for Zytle.

"There's never been a brave thing done didn't seem foolhardy at first. You were willing to sacrifice yourself to give us a shot to escape. That's brave in my book." The Captain offered and Felicity smiled up at the Captain.

"Well, I hope you've got some bravery left in your tank because we still aren't out of the woods yet." Sara intoned and Felicity turned to face the blonde, throwing her arms around her in a short but firm embrace.

"Whatever you need." Felicity nodded, eager to make amends for having almost gotten them all into trouble with Zytle. She'd had no idea the kind of trouble her radio transmission would cause. Now that she did? Well, she wasn't about to make that mistake twice.

"I need you to come with me to help me find us a car."  Sara stated simply and Felicity sucked in a breath, stealing a glance at Oliver, whose face was hidden by his hood in the dark.

"Okay." Felicity agreed simply and right away, Oliver had shifted to stand in front of Sara, putting a pleading hand out.

"Have her stay here with your father. I'll go look." He offered, his words a low growl as the modulator distorted his normal voice. But Sara was having none of it.

"No. _You_ are going to stay here and protect him for me. To make up for risking him in the first place." Sara snapped a little sharply, taking a deep breath to clear her head before she continued. "And besides; you're both wounded and no offense, but you haven't slept in days and you look like hell. Felicity will come with me and help me get us a car. We'll be right back. I'll protect her – I promise." Sara offered with a firmness and sincerity that betrayed her unwillingness to budge on this issue. Felicity watched Oliver's hands do the nervous little tick he always seemed to do when he was anxious or uncertain, his fingers curling just so as he stared at her from beneath his hood.

"Are you alright with that?" He asked her quietly and Felicity bit back a smile because how often did Oliver Queen ever _ask_ other people for their opinion on a plan? (Answer: Not often. Almost never, actually.)

"Yeah. I'll be okay with Sara. We'll be right back." She nodded, glancing Sara's way with a weak smile before she looked back at him, his fingers still doing his nervous tick.

"I just… want you to be safe. That's all." He said gruffly. And then he was moving, undoing his jacket and shucking it off before he paused, holding it before her in a silent offer, his eyes trained on her from behind his dark green mask.

_Only_ his dark green mask, she realized with a start.

"Your identity." She whispered under her breath and he gave her a wan smile and shook his head.

"You're more important. If it's my identity or your safety, there's no choice to make."

"But-" She began to protest, only for him to cut her short.

"Felicity," he growled out, his tone of voice leaving absolutely _zero_ room for argument, "put on the jacket." He grunted through clenched teeth, holding out the green leather piece for her to slip into. Speechless with the import of what he was doing she complied, stepping forward and sliding her arms up into the wide sleeves as he helped her don the jacket. Before she could do it herself, he had pulled her ponytail free from where the neck of the jacket had caught it, his fingers lingering just a moment too long and she had to bite back a smile at the sensation of his fingers carding through her hair.

Coming to stand before her, he surveyed the fit of the jacket on her and nodded before moving a step closer, dragging the zipper up slower than was strictly necessary, his fingertips brushing lightly against her front through the fabric of her shirt, causing her to suppress shiver. Once finished, his fingers hung suspended for a moment of hesitation before he dropped his hand away from her slowly. He looked her over once more before nodding approvingly and offered her a dim smile before he backed away, apparently satisfied.

"How do I look? Is it my color?" She asked in a whisper with a smile, intending to be funny because if she didn't try to maintain some semblance of collectedness, she was going to ramble and turn this incredibly awkward. Because that was how her mind (and her mouth) seemed to operate. 

" _Definitely_." He responded in a low voice, raking his eyes over her and she could swear she _felt_ the look like a physical touch. Felicity felt a thrilling shiver race up and down her spine and she ducked her head, blushing softly as she fidgeted with the too-large jacket.

"Well good. Because I like this. It feels good." She mused at last, freezing up as she heard her own words. Keenly avoiding his gaze, she pushed the sleeves up so they didn't hang past her hands, allowing her to reach up and flatten both palms across his chest, bare but for a white tee. "And by 'it' I mean the jacket." She clarified as an afterthought and Oliver nodded, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"Of course."

A not so distant throat clearing behind them reminded her that they weren't alone and sheepishly, she stepped away from him, holding her breath as she waited to see if Oliver would reveal himself now, or wait until after she and Sara had left.

It was a question she didn't have to ponder long.

The slim mask came off easily and Oliver held it in his left hand as he spun on his heel, allowing Quentin Lance to finally see him in the light of day. Or rather, in the dim half light of evening with flashlights in a darkened gym. But 'in the light of day' sounded better.

_Not important, Felicity_. She reminded herself mentally.

 With his right hand, Oliver extended his palm in an invitation to shake hands, and Felicity gulped as she waited to see if Quentin Lance would accept the silent offer that the handshake plainly represented.

If the Captain was surprised at the identity of the Arrow, he gave no indication of it, showed no outward expression of shock or anger or any of the other emotions he would have been completely justified in feeling. Instead, rubbing one hand across the back of his neck, the Captain walked forward to Oliver, studying him shrewdly as he approached.

There was a brief moment of total silence and then.

"Thank you."

The Captain wore a genuine expression of appreciation as he lifted his hand to Oliver's waiting palm and grabbed it in a firm shake.

"I mean it. Thank you. For keeping my girls safe… and for saving me."

Oliver responded with a surprised nod, his eyes flickering to Felicity and Sara who stood, lingering behind her father, her expression mingled shock and pride as her father set aside whatever residual, negative emotions he might have had for the Oliver – and by extension the Arrow; it was plain that, if he still felt any such emotions they were gone now.

"You're welcome. And…. Thank _you_. For keeping Felicity safe." Oliver responded in kind, turning to glance Felicity's way, his lips upturned ever so slightly as he made eye contact with her, no doubt noting the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. "And for saving me. Looks like we're even." Oliver murmured, turning his focus back to the Captain, who gave a low chortle.

"Don't go getting soft on me now, Queen. I'm still not your biggest fan."  Lance reminded and Oliver gave a chuckle.

"That's alright. Neither am I."

Felicity watched as the two men moved towards the boxing ring, Oliver giving Sara a subtle nod which apparently served as a signal. Striding towards Felicity, the blonde motioned for them to go. Felicity cast one final look at the two men and then followed after Sara, feeling surprisingly uplifted by the entire exchange.

Quentin Lance and Oliver Queen might not be Oliver's biggest fans but that was alright. She was pretty certain that, given that she knew Oliver better than almost anyone, Felicity herself held that position. And proudly so.

"Come on," Sara murmured as they walked away, "I'm pretty sure that's going to keep them entertained until we get back with a car." She grinned at Felicity, who beamed in return as she fell into step with the black clad blonde.


	13. Chapter 13

"Another six tonight on the east perimeter. It's getting worse." Roy commented darkly as he stood facing off with John, Lyla, and Laurel in the entryway of the mansion. The small group shifted uneasily, all of them on edge at the pressing reality that danger was creeping up on them. Written on their faces were the memories of the horrors they'd seen in the city and an involuntary shudder seemed to course through them all at the thought of reliving such experiences here in the mansion.

"How much longer are we going to wait here?" Roy asked the silent group, looking around at their worried faces in desperation.

"Roy-" John began, only to be cut off by Laurel.

"My sister is out there with _your friend_ looking for Felicity. And you want to cut and run?" Laurel inquired angrily, prompting Roy to set his jaw and step forward as he glared daggers at Laurel.

"You think I _want_ to leave them behind? They're my only _family_!" Roy shouted angrily, his hands balling into fists as John placed a hand on his chest to calm him down. The vigilante in training looked them over, breathing heavily as he did his best to make them see reason.

"I'm just saying what everyone else is thinking, alright? We can't stay here forever. The infected from the city are coming this way and we're sitting ducks here; it's too big a place to defend." Roy reasoned, shrugging off John's hand and backing away from the group as he put his mask back on, his frustration almost tangible.

"Roy, it's my turn to stand watch." Diggle reminded him, but the red-clad youth just shrugged as he walked away.

"I'll take it. You stay with your family." Roy offered and Diggle frowned but didn't pursue him. It pained him to let Roy go, but John was all too aware that the younger man would need the opportunity to work out his anger and frustrations and patrolling would offer just such an opportunity. When Roy was out of earshot, Diggle turned to Laurel, fixing her with a patient stare.

"You've gotta ease up on him, Laurel."

"Like hell I do; he's talking about abandoning my sister! And your friend - are you really telling me you're alright with that?"  Laurel countered, not about to stand for the idea of abandoning her sister and her friend, no matter how bleak things seemed to be getting.

"Roy's just trying to look out for the group; Oliver told him to take care of us before he left." Lyla admitted, looking from Laurel to John and back again.

"He doesn't want to leave anymore than you do." Diggle sighed and Laurel shook her head in disbelief.

"He's got a funny way of showing it." She sighed, still trying to understand the dynamic of 'Team Arrow' – especially in their new, stressful circumstances.

"Laurel, the last he heard from Thea, she was jet-setting with Malcolm Merlyn. For all he knows, she was on her way back here to Starling when Vertigo broke out. If Roy leaves the mansion, his odds of seeing her again drop exponentially without a functioning communication grid." Diggle confessed, watching as Laurel's eyes rounded in surprise and then guilt.

"I-I didn't know."

"He doesn't talk about it." Diggle stated quietly, turning to the windows behind them so he could watch Roy's figure grow smaller as he disappeared onto the Queen Mansion grounds to patrol. "But leaving here? It's going to cost him a lot. He's just trying to keep us all safe." Diggle sighed, putting a hand over Lyla's shoulder.

The number of infected that had made it onto the mansion's grounds had increased dramatically since Oliver and Sara had departed. It was to the point now that they were finding at least one per patrol, often more. It didn’t' exactly inspire confidence as to the mansion's viability as a long-term safe house, that much was certain. And despite Roy and John's attempts to fortify the building, the pits they'd dug and blockades they'd built were poor defenses against any substantial number of potential attackers - living or dead.

"Have you managed to make contact with them at all?" John queried and Lyla shook her head, biting her lip in frustration. Despite regular attempts with the CB radio, she hadn't been able to get in touch with Oliver and Sara – or Felicity. Since initially receiving the signal from Team Arrow's blonde IT girl, all had been silent, save for a broken communication from Sara that had been too garbled to understand.

The silence was grating on them all. 

"Not a peep. But I'll keep trying." Lyla offered and John nodded gratefully, pressing a kiss to her forehead before the brunette disappeared toward the staircase and her makeshift base of operations. Refocusing on Laurel, John was about to speak when a distant wail informed him that his daughter had awoken from her nap.

"I'll get her." Laurel offered quickly, putting a hand on John's shoulder to stop him. "You… go talk to Roy. And tell him… I'm sorry." Laurel stated contritely, eyes downcast as she said the words. "I didn't know." She said softly, turning her gaze to meet John's before she inhaled deeply, steeling herself. "I'll take care of your little girl - who you really should name, by the way. Baby Girl Michaels-Diggle might be a little bit of a mouthful for her to say when she's older." Laurel teased gently, patting John's shoulder. He smiled and nodded as she passed him, the crying soon quieting as she reached the room where he and Lyla had been holed up with their daughter since arriving at the mansion.

They did need to name their daughter. Though they hadn't spoken about the subject much since arriving at Oliver's family home, John knew why he and Lyla had avoided the issue.

It was difficult to consider naming their daughter, to thinking she could have any kind of life, given the world they were living in now. He and Lyla had seen enough, gone through enough loss, to know things didn't always work out. And the idea of losing their daughter was already too painful to consider. Naming her, giving her that permanence and reality, would only make the loss that much worse, if it happened.

And 'if' was a very real possibility in these dangerous times.

With a heavy heart and a heavier conscience, John made for the back door of the mansion, determined to track down Roy and calm the young man down. Love or hate the sentiment, the kid was right; they couldn't wait around forever for Sara and Oliver to return. Staying in place for too long wouldn't bode well for any of them. And even if it killed him to do it, John knew that if push came to shove, he would make the decision to leave the mansion if it became the best option for keeping his family safe.

"Where are you Oliver?" Diggle muttered as he walked off after Roy, his hands in his pockets as he strode across the lawn in the brisk autumn air.

\-----

"So you're telling me you can hack a _car_?" Sara queried in disbelief, shaking her head with a smile as she regarded Felicity with renewed admiration.

"In a matter of speaking; newer cars have their own sort of networks. Think about OnStar. It's dialed into your car's system. If you can hack the network, you can access the telematics. If you can access that, you can disable the ignition. Or, in our case _enable_ it." Felicity grinned as she pulled out the cell phone she'd borrowed from Sara. Tapping away at it, she was able to utilize it as a mobile hotspot. A little more digging and she was golden.

"Well, we'll give your way a go. But if it doesn't work, we're going the hot-wiring route." Sara announced and Felicity looked at the other woman in surprise, her brows arching upward.

" _You_ know how to hotwire a car? What does your dad think about that?" She asked and Sara only shook her head with a sad smile.

"It's one of the  _many_ things he doesn't know about." Sara responded and suddenly Felicity sensed she'd gone and made things awkward.  _Nice going_. It looked like her permanent 'foot-in-mouth' disorder was still alive and well. Eager to change the subject, Felicity peered down at the phone screen and pursed her lips as she regarded the reading on the screen.

"Okay, I'm picking up a couple of networks in that parking garage." Felicity directed, pointing them toward a nearby parking structure. Nodding, Sara pulled out her bo staff and led the way, her body tense as she craned to hear or see any signs of the living – or the nonliving.

As they crept around the first floor, they found it devoid of cars, occupied instead only by bits of trash here and there. Clearly no one had bothered coming here once the infection had hit, so their cars weren't here.

"They must be on the upper levels." Felicity reasoned, looking up at the concrete above them.

"Let's go find ourselves a car then." Sara answered back, striding towards the circular drive that would lead to the next level of the parking structure. Felicity followed suit, making certain to keep close to Sara. Even if they hadn't seen any of the infected so far, that didn't mean they wouldn't up ahead. And based on how tense Sara was, Felicity was pretty sure the other blonde didn't think they were alone in the garage.

As they rounded the turn to the second level, Felicity decided pretty quickly that she didn't think they were alone here either.

A delivery van had been driven up the ramp and summarily tipped onto its side, effectively blocking the way for any vehicles, and creating a significant obstacle for anyone on foot.

"Should we-" Felicity began, only to fall silent as Sara jumped, pushing off of the  concrete barrier and twisting her body in midair to redirect herself towards the van. In that single, fluid motion, the Canary was atop the delivery van and peering down at Felicity with a shit eating grin.

"I guess that answers my question of 'should keep going or not'." Felicity gulped, accepting the hand that Sara quickly offered to help hoist the tech savvy blonde up and then over the van. As they landed on the other side, Felicity frowned as she took in the sight of the parking garage. Someone had strung up blankets along the edge of the level – probably to block out light. As Felicity eyed the space, she caught sight of a small tent that had been pitched near one of the structure's support beams. Beside the tent was a series of milk crates filled with various items. And then, off to the side was a parked, seemingly untouched green Jeep Cherokee.

"You getting anything off of that?" Sara asked, inclining her head towards the Jeep. Felicity swallowed and glanced at the phone screen, then nodded back at Sara.

"Yeah. I am."

"Then let's hack it and get out of here." Sara said tersely, stepping forward as she took a protective posture in front of Felicity as she escorted her to the vehicle. Felicity was torn, her compassionate side saying that they shouldn't steal from whoever it was that had holed up here. Meanwhile, her survival instincts were reminding her that the people she loved were in danger and getting this car could bring them to some semblance of safety. Her mind summoned up the memory of Oliver and his still fresh bullet wound and just like that her mind was made.

There was no choice to make – she was hacking this car and then she, Sara, Oliver, and Captain Lance were getting the frack out of the city.

Felicity managed to undo the locks of the vehicle with ease and after a little additional fiddling with her phone, she utilized the keyless ignition to start up the car remotely. As the engine roared to life though, a sharp voice called out across the garage.

"HEY! High tech Barbie! If you don't want a crowbar for a windpipe, you better scram now!"

Felicity instinctively raised her hands in guilt and fear, preparing to receive a serious smackdown from the person whose safe haven they'd clearly invaded. Sara, however, whirled towards the voice with her bo staff raised menacingly. And then…

"Sin?!"

Still standing with her arms raised in surrender, Felicity glanced over her shoulder and saw Sara running across the parking garage towards the slim figure of a young girl with dark, short hair. The two embraced, both smiling widely as they marched back towards the vehicle laughingly.

"Felicity, you can put down your hands." Sara chuckled and Felicity glanced up at her still raised arms and lowered them sheepishly, casting an uncertain smile Sin's way.

"Friend of yours?" Felicity questioned and Sara smiled, passing a hand over the younger girl's head and ruffling her hair fondly.

"Felicity, this is Sin; Sin, meet Felicity." Sara introduced as Felicity offered a nervous wave and a nervous laugh.

"So you're Sin. Um, hi." Felicity murmured quietly, finally getting a face to put with the name she'd heard of several times through both Sara and Roy.

"Sorry about the whole 'crowbar' thing… It's rougher than usual in the Glades these days though, y'know?" Sin commented with a dark laugh as she cast an admiring glance Sara's way, clearly overjoyed at having been reunited with her friend.

"Don't mention it." Felicity responded back, still a bit dazed from the whirlwind of events that had transpired in the last sixty seconds.

"Sin, you've got to come with us." Sara gushed, turning and placing a hand on each of the youth's shoulders as she regarded her seriously. "We have food, water, a safe place to stay. And there's a whole group of us - we can keep each other safe. Roy's there too." She added and Felicity noticed how these words perked the young woman up.

"You're serious?" She asked brightly and Sara nodded.

"Very serious. We're going there. Now. That's why we were looking for a car." Sara said, motioning to the still running Jeep. In answer, Sin looked from Sara to Felicity and then around the parking garage before she gave an emphatic nod.

"Yeah, I think I could go for a little change of scenery." She agreed, pulling up the zipper on her leather jacket before she darted forward towards her tent, rummaging around in it briefly before she emerged again, a worn and dog-eared photograph clutched in her hands. Felicity didn't see what it was a photo of before the young girl shoved it into her jacket pocket, then dusted her hands and looked at the two women expectantly. "Well, we gonna go or what?" She asked, cracking a smile as the two blondes blinked at her.

"You don't want to bring any of your stuff?" Felicity asked in surprise and Sin shook her head, wrinkling her nose in response.

"Nah. You guys said you have some safe digs, I'll be good."

"We should bring the food though." Felicity murmured, eyeing the crates of supplies that Sin had scavenged and Sara nodded, striding forward and grabbing a pair of the cartons easily. Sin grabbed the remaining pair and together, the three women piled Sin's meager belongings into the car.

"Um…don't take this the wrong way but… how exactly are we getting out of here?" Felicity remarked, pointing once more at the overturned delivery van blocking their way. Sin smirked and went to the side of the vehicle, retrieving a tow line that she fixed to the front bumper of the delivery van and the rear trailer hitch of the Jeep.

"Give her some gas and that bad boy should slide out of the way enough for us to scrape by." Sin grinned knowingly and Sara nodded as she hopped into the front seat.

"Smart, but not the best for a quick getaway."

"Hey, it worked didn't it? Kept everyone except you two fools out." Sin grinned and Sara only chuckled and shook her head as she threw the car into gear and, with only a few groans of protest from the Jeep, towed the delivery van out of the way,  effectively clearing a path for the trio to drive back to the gym. Felicity couldn't help but silently marvel at Sin's ingenuity. Here she was on her own in a very dangerous time and the young woman was thriving; clearly she was accustomed to having to look out for herself. Despite the insanity that had exploded around her, Sin was still in one piece and doing just fine on her own.

To say that Felicity was impressed would have been an understatement. 

Still, she was all too eager for them to be on their way back to the gym so they could collect Oliver and Lance. Even if she trusted Sara (she did, immensely), Felicity didn't like leaving Oliver behind, wounded and exhausted. Being separated once had been bad enough - she wasn't keen to repeat the experience. Slipping into the passenger seat, Felicity heaved a sigh of relief. Even if the trip had been relatively uneventful, she felt exhausted by recent events and she truly wanted nothing more than to sleep again (and eat a warm meal). So as Sara guided the Jeep out of the parking garage, Felicity felt her head sag and her eyes grew heavy and fell closed despite her best efforts to keep them open. The last thing she remembered hearing was Sin asking Sara about Roy and Thea's whereabouts, and then she sank deep, _deep_ into sleep.

\-----

"She's fine, Ollie. Relax."

Unintelligible mumbling followed as Felicity awoke slowly, blinking at the blurred shapes of trees and sprawling houses that flashed past in the growing darkness, illuminated only by the moon and the stars.

"I want Diggle to look at her injury when we're back." Oliver's voice was sharp with worry and as Felicity looked around sleepily, her eyes landed on his face looming above hers, looking out the windows at the passing landscape with a pinched expression.

"Ollie, I'm sure he'll tell you that you did a fine job sewing her up. If anything, _you're_ the one that Diggle should look at – we still haven't tended to that bullet wound of yours." Sara reminded Oliver from the front seat and Felicity couldn't help the soft wheeze of laughter that left her as she saw Oliver bite his cheek, clearly not thrilled with the idea of having to play patient. At the sound of her laughter though, Oliver's expression brightened and he looked down at her, passing a hand over her forehead gently.

"You're awake." He mused and she nodded as she sat up slowly, feeling slightly dizzy as she did so. Beside her, sitting in the middle seat, Oliver held her tightly, a silent bastion of support. Beside him, Quentin Lance was asleep, his head lolling to the side, pillowed on the seat belt strapped across his front.

"Looks like I wasn't the only one who was tired." Felicity commented, yawning widely as she sat up straighter, staring at the front seat where Sara was still driving, Sin now riding shotgun with her. "Sorry I crashed on you two." Felicity apologized and Sin only grinned back at her.

"It's cool; gave me an excuse to kick you to the backseat." She chortled and Felicity saw Sara glance at her through the rearview mirror.

"You've been through a lot; you needed the rest." She assured and Felicity nodded, blinking sleepily as she reclined against Oliver's chest, mindful not to put any pressure on his wounded shoulder.

"How are you?" She asked quietly and he offered a tight smile in answer, which told her he was in more pain than he was letting on but doing his best to hide it. _Self sacrificing fool_.

"I'm alright. Glad you're up." He stated softly, his eyes running over her one last time as if to reassure himself that she was in fact awake and unharmed. "It sounds like you really impressed Sara with your grand theft auto skills." He commented wryly and Felicity smiled faintly, waving dismissively.

"Just a little basic telemetric hacking and some finagling with the OBD-II. Kiddie stuff, really." She joked, her interest lying more so on what progress had been made by the group as she slept. Clearly Sara had managed to rendezvous with the men, apparently without catastrophic incident. That was good.

"Where are we?" She asked and Oliver leaned over her to peer out the window, his jaw set as he stared at the passing treeline.

"About two miles out from my family's house." He announced, only for Sin to interject sarcastically.

"House? Try mansion, Queen." She corrected, prompting Oliver to hang his head and smirk faintly at the youth's interruption.

"Whatever you want to call it. We're close. We'll be home soon." He informed her and Felicity couldn't help the shiver that she felt at him referring to his family's mansion (because yes, it was a mansion – she was going to have to side with Sin on this one) as 'home' – not just for him, but for her too. It had a nice ring to it, she had to admit.

They rode in silence for the remainder of the trip and Felicity was keenly aware of Oliver's hand seeking out one of hers, his fingers curling around hers tightly as they approached the darkened mansion. Felicity stared at the structure hungrily, desperate for some sign of life to indicate that their friends were alive and well inside. But if they were, there was no suggestion of it from the outside. 

_Come on guys_. She pleaded with them mentally as she stared hopefully at the windows. They couldn't have come all this way just to find the place empty - or worse, overrun by the infected.  _Where are you all?_ She thought, panic slowly winding its way through her mind, sticky tendrils and vines that seemed to seep into her thoughts and make her heart race with fear.  _John. Roy. Laurel. Please._

The group piled out of the Jeep in silence, Oliver at the front with Felicity tucked behind him, Sara bringing up the rear while Lance stuck close to Sin in the middle of the pack, his piece drawn and raised as they crept towards the stone staircase that would lead them to the front door. Hesitating for only a moment, Oliver tried the handle and found it unlocked. Easing it open, he slipped inside stealthily, the others following along behind him. Once inside, Oliver flagged down Sara, who approached quickly so he could whisper hurried instructions.

"You sweep the west wing with your father and Sin. Felicity and I will take the east wing. If anything goes wrong, yell and meet back at the Jeep." Oliver directed and Sara nodded. Just as the group was about to split apart though, a soft creak drew Oliver's attention and in an instant he had thrown himself in front of Felicity just as a fierce voice called out in the dark, glowering and cocky.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you to knock?"

From behind Oliver, Felicity strained to see in the darkness, until a set of flashlights flicked on and illuminated the group standing in the entryway. Backlit by the beams of light, Felicity caught a splash of red leather and then saw Oliver relax significantly.

"I don't usually knock when entering my own home, Roy." Oliver growled, lowering the bow Felicity didn't even remember seeing him draw. There was movement on the staircase above and then Felicity saw the flashlights bob as the sound of footsteps on the stairs drew her attention.

"Oliver?!"

Felicity huffed a sigh of relief at the sound of John Diggle's voice as he rushed forward to Oliver and threw his arms around him in a rough, relieved embrace. More footsteps sounded and Felicity watched as Lyla followed John, holding a small bundle in her arms that Felicity took for their baby. Behind her, Laurel lingered uncertainly, with Roy drawing up the rear. As they drew near, Felicity saw the exact moment that Laurel's eyes landed on her father and Felicity sucked in a breath of air.

Laurel went stock still, staring in disbelief into the group, her eyes wide and filling with tears as she cocked her head to the side, gently pushing past Lyla and Roy to stand at the front of their small party, still staring fixedly before her. Her hands hung at her sides, her fingers splayed and tense, as if longing to reach for the man she couldn't believe was standing before her.

"D-Daddy?" She questioned, her voice breaking as she stared at her father. In answer, Quentin Lance threw himself forward, his arms enveloping his daughter as sobs wracked his weary frame, his hands cradling the back of Laurel's head as he clutched her to him tightly. Felicity could hear his voice as the Captain whispered frantically to his daughter, but Felicity couldn't make out the words. She knew only that his tone of voice was so tender and overjoyed that the sound of it brought tears to her eyes.

Felicity felt breathless as she watched the small family reuniting, father and daughter gripping each other so tightly, breaking apart only to admit Sara into the hug. They continued to embrace then, holding fast to one another like life preservers on stormy seas.

The reunion was so genuine, so tender, Felicity almost felt like an intruder for watching it. Looking away from the still hugging Lance trio, she had just enough time to turn around before she felt a strong figure collide against her, lifting her off her feet and twirling her in joyous recognition.

"Roy?!" She remarked in surprise, beaming widely as she took in the sight of him in his red Arsenal outfit, sans mask, relief flooding her.

"Oh man, am I glad to see you." Roy huffed as he set her down, beaming at her with practically radiant joy as he took in the sight of her in Oliver's Arrow jacket, his brows raised. "Nice jacket." He commented, his smile turning to a sly smirk as Felicity rolled her eyes and gave him a playful shove.

"You are a sight for sore eyes." Another familiar voice had her turning away from Roy so she could fling her arms over John Diggle's shoulders, clutching him to her tightly and refusing to let go as she released a happy sob.

"So are you." She exhaled as she pulled away from him, one hand on the side of his face lovingly. It was only then, in that moment, that Felicity realized how profound the burden of not knowing had been on her, the subconscious fear that those she loved were dead or worse, infected. Looking around the room, she could hardly believe that she was fortunate enough to have so many beloved faces standing beside her, safe and sound.

The greetings continued but Felicity played bystander as she watched an overjoyed Roy greet Sin with a warm embrace that the dark haired young woman tolerated but eventually shrugged away from, punching Roy playfully in the shoulder to try and hide her apparent relief at seeing another friendly face. Lyla was there too, cradling a very small, very beautiful sleeping baby in her arms. Felicity found herself cooing at the little girl, completely smitten as she uttered a soft 'Mazel Tov' to John and Lyla.

After the initial reunions had been done, they moved out of the entryway and into one of the main rooms of the mansion and Felicity smiled as she saw the heavy curtains were drawn to block out the light being emitted by a roaring fire crackling invitingly in the large hearth. Spread around the fireplace, Felicity saw numerous pillows and blankets. As if sensing her thoughts Lyla stepped forward to explain.

"We started getting worried the longer you two were gone and we kind of started to camp out in here together… It made the waiting easier." She explained with a wry smile and a shared look with John, who nodded in understanding. Slowly, the group all spread out around the fire in small clusters, though Roy, Oliver, Sara, and John remained standing and moved together to confer.

"Don't even think about it." Lyla said warningly, waggling a finger at the four of them. "No patrols. Not right now. We're all together again – we should celebrate. We've got enough reserve power to run the security system we set up for an hour or so without risking our critical systems. I vote we take that hour and just enjoy each other's company." Lyla said definitively and her tone left no room for argument to the point that even Oliver swallowed his objections, instead fixing Lyla with a wry smile as he nodded at her in agreement.

"One hour." He allowed, holding one finger aloft before her. "Just one." He insisted. "And then-"

"-You'll go to bed and rest while the rest of us hold down the fort." Roy asserted suddenly, crossing his arms before him stubbornly as he regarded his mentor with a cool expression. "You've been out there a while. And we all noticed your wound, so don't try and hide it. You need to rest." Roy stated calmly and Felicity stifled a gasp as she realized how much more Oliver's protégé had been forced to grow up given the current state of affairs and given Oliver's absence to search for her.

"We can hold down the fort until at least tomorrow. Roy's right man; you need to take at least tonight off." John nodded, surveying Oliver's wound with a critical eye. "But first, let's get you patched up." He asserted, only for Oliver to spin on his heel to point to Felicity.

"First take a look at Felicity." He insisted and Felicity's eyes opened wide as she shook her head.

"I am fine-" she began, only for Oliver to cut her off.

"She has a deep laceration from a nail ripping through her shoulder. I stitched it, but she popped a stitch when we had to make a hasty exit." He explained, shooting her a steely glance. "It should be checked out. Then you can take a look at Captain Lance. And then me." He insisted and John glanced between the pair then sighed and nodded.

"Alright. Come on Felicity."

"John!" She protested and he shook his head.

"The sooner you come with me, the sooner you'll be done and the sooner I can take care of him." Diggle insisted and Felicity shot Oliver a frown and narrowed her eyes, though her heart wasn't truly in it. _Damn him and his inability to put himself first._

"This isn't over." Felicity warned with a gentle note of teasing as she was gently towed away by Diggle and Oliver smirked at her and nodded, clearly none too intimidated by her attempt at a threat. 

She'd have to work on that. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update is a long chapter and will be our first indication as to how our friends outside of Starling are doing. For any of those unfamiliar with The Flash (or for those who are), fear not - no spoilers for that show will be in this story (due in no small part to the fact that I am, sadly, woefully behind on that show). And only a basic knowledge of The Flash characters will be necessary to get you through (if you've seen the episodes of Arrow that feature The Flash characters, you'll be more than good). But for now, please enjoy an Olicity-centric chapter and look for a new chapter to go up within a week or so, hopefully. As always, thanks for reading/commenting! :)

Diggle proved to be an efficient and competent doctor yet again, quickly adding two fresh stitches to Felicity's wound (with only minimal wincing on her part) before he checked out Quentin Lance. The Captain was told to rest and loaded up with painkillers for his ribs – which according to Diggle were likely cracked, not broken. Oliver took the longest to tend to as John cleaned the wound and stitched it back together, all while Oliver stoically refused pain medication.

While Diggle tended to Oliver's wounds, Felicity took the opportunity to speak with Lyla, well aware that the woman had been maintaining the limited communications system that the group of survivors had to their name. Despite limited power resources and less than top quality equipment to work with, Felicity was impressed with what Lyla had managed to scrap together.

"If we bump the reflected power to a little less than 3% of the forward power, we can optimize the broadcast range. We've got what we've got with the antenna, but if we can make an array of dipoles, that will help too." Felicity chatted shop with Lyla as the two discussed upping the power of the CB radio broadcast that Lyla had been utilizing.

Felicity, though still somewhat gunshy about broadcasting messages to the broken world of Starling City and beyond, knew that some form of communications was necessary if they were going to stay informed and safe as they rode out this outbreak. And it just so happened that she had the technological know-how to get that done.

"If we have Roy put the dipole array here, here, and here on his rounds, that should boost our signal considerably." Felicity explained while pointing around the sketch of the grounds that Lyla had drawn up. Nodding at Felicity's suggestions, Lyla beamed.

"I'll have him set them up on his next set of rounds – glad to have you back, Felicity. We've needed that brain of yours." Lyla beamed and Felicity gave a soft smile in return, glad that she could still be of some use.

"Speaking of rounds…" A voice trailed off and the two women turned to find John and Oliver walking back into the room, Oliver boasting a newly bandaged shoulder.

"Nuh-uh. Not yet sir. I will give marching orders when it's time but for now, we are still sitting and enjoying each other's company. The security system can run for a little bit longer." Lyla stated firmly and the two men shared a look and then nodded. Before she could say anything to him, Oliver ducked away from the group and moved to the outer ring of the merry bunch of survivors. As Lyla and Digg went to steal back their daughter from Laurel, Felicity found herself alone until Sara came up to join her.

"You did good out there." Sara complimented quietly and Felicity ducked her gaze and shook her head.

"I almost got us into a lot of trouble… I'd be dead right now if it weren't for you and Oliver. I owe you – thank you." Felicity intoned gratefully. She was surprised when Sara shook her head in vehement disagreement, her lips pressed together in a tight line.

"You don't owe me a thing, Felicity. My dad told me what you did for him. He wouldn't have survived if it weren't for you. So it's me that should be thanking _you_. For saving my dad." Sara explained, the words falling from her tongue heavy with the utmost of sincerity. A little taken aback, Felicity could only nod dazedly. Silence settled between the two women as they stood staring out at the ragtag group of survivors and it was then that Felicity noticed where Oliver had gone to, precisely. He was seated on the edge of the group, set back from them all. It took her a moment to realize he wasn't being antisocial – he was just trying to keep them all in his field of view, ever the watchful protector.

The man was basically a boy scout. But she also knew that he was justified in maintaining his vigilant tendencies in such times as these.

"Does he have any idea… about Thea?" Felicity inquired delicately, her voice barely audible even with Sara standing right beside her. As Felicity watched Oliver, she could see the evidence of his fatigue, of his physical pain, and his relief at reuniting with the group safely. But she could also sense that he was holding back, trying to hide an emotional burden. And she couldn't help but think that that burden was the uncertainty as to what had befallen his sister.

Sara pursed her lips and shook her head softly, her eyes dark with sadness and pity as she stared at her friend.

"We know she wasn't where she told Oliver she was; Roy told Oliver early on in the outbreak. They tried to get word to her to warn her not to come home and to set up a place to rendezvous but… they never heard back from her." Sara explained quietly. "All we know is she was with Merlyn and they'd been globetrotting from the sounds of it. She could be anywhere." Sara sighed softly as she turned her gaze away from Oliver and back to Felicity.

"He doesn't like to talk about it." Sara acknowledged softly and Felicity suppressed a snort.

"Oliver doesn't _like_ to talk about a lot of things." She murmured, her eyes still trained on the man in question, studying him intently. "Especially the things that leave him torn up inside." Felicity sighed, passing a hand through her hair and ruffling it halfheartedly.

"I think that's part of why he needed to find you so badly." Sara mused, looking at Felicity with such seriousness that Felicity fell totally still as time seemed to slow. "He needed to know that he hadn't failed the two most important people in his world." 

Sara smiled sadly before she gave Felicity a gentle pat on the back and took her leave, opting to join the other two Lances across the room. Laurel and Quentin were huddled together closest to the fire, Quentin with a protective arm draped across Laurel. As Felicity watched, Sara seated herself on the other side of her father, sandwiching him between herself and her sister.

Quentin Lance looked perfectly content to be the center of that sandwich.

Wringing her hands uncertainly, Felicity looked around the room, breathing deeply as she looked at the happy clusters of her beloved friends. The Lances looked so at peace she wanted to hug all three of them at once. John and Lyla were all smiles as John rocked his sleepy infant daughter while Lyla watched on, leaning contentedly on his shoulder.

Roy and Sin sat talking quietly and though Felicity knew Roy was likely out of his mind with worry over Thea too, she was glad that he too had someone to focus on, to talk to.

And then there was Oliver.

Situated on the outside of the group, she'd been so busy staring at the others that she had failed to notice him staring at her until that moment. But as she met his gaze, something stirred deep in the pit of her stomach and she heard Sara's words ring in her mind again. _The two most important people in his world_.

That was a difficult concept to believe. This was Oliver. Oliver, who had dated the likes of gorgeous Laurel, who had as recently as the last year been with the likes of tough as nails Sara. He had a sister that he loved, he had a protégé that worshipped the ground that he walked on, and he had as good as a brother in John Diggle. And yet Sara had said that Felicity was second only to Oliver's sister in his affections.

That should have been intimidating to hear, given that they'd been on only one, interrupted date. But instead of being off-put or concerned, Felicity felt steely resolve grip her.

So as she made eye contact with him, Felicity ignored her reflexive instinct to turn away shyly and instead walked up to him and wordlessly seated herself beside him on the floor. As she watched through the corners of her eyes, she saw his figure stiffen but otherwise he gave no outward reaction to her joining him.

"Old habits die hard, hmm?" She murmured just loud enough for him to hear as she directed her attention to the fire crackling merrily in the fireplace. Cocking his head to regard her, she saw him frown for a moment, plainly confused.

"What habit's that?"

"This. The vigilance. Protecting all of us." Felicity explained, sweeping a hand towards the half circle of their friends. "I see the way you're watching them and around them. You're checking the room, the windows. Patrolling the immediate perimeter of the room without moving. You just can't quit _'Arrow-ing'_. You're an addict." She grinned teasingly and he hung his head and shook it, smirking faintly.

"You did not just turn being the Arrow into a verb."

"Present participle verb, actually. And yeah, _I so did_." She smirked, nudging his arm with her elbow playfully as he turned to fix her with a disapproving stare. It was only halfhearted at best though – his genuine disapproving stare could have made plastic plants wither and die. This was just his way of avoiding a smile – he was trying to hide his amusement but she could see it, even if he tried to conceal it.

"So how long are you um… going to be 'Arrowing" tonight?" She inquired, forcing her voice to stay level and controlled with moderate success. Despite the others saying he should rest, Felicity found it hard to believe he'd listen.

"I actually have the night off; Digg kept insisting while he was patching me up that I rest after a long day of _'hero-ing'_." He remarked, his eyebrows curving upward in amusement as he intentionally emphasized his own made up verb. Taking the bait, Felicity fixed him with an intent stare.

"Mockery of your EA and IT genius will get you nowhere." She chastised him with a soft smile. Not that that had ever stopped Oliver (or Roy or John or Sara) from mocking or teasing her before. Oliver, however, returned her stare with a level one of his own, watching and gauging her reaction as he said his well timed response.

"Where would good behavior get me?"

The full weight of his focus shifted onto Felicity like a barbell and she felt as if she'd just had the wind knocked out of her because she was _literally breathless_. And breathlessness? Totally not all it was cracked up to be, seeing as it left her spluttering for air (definitely _not_ attractive).

Was he really…? _Was he flirting?_ She wasn't sure if he was or if it was just wishful thinking on her part.

"Is it too cliché to say 'everywhere'?" She responded with bated breath, hurrying the words out of her mouth before she could chicken out and say something else less… flirtatious? Suggestive? Something. Apparently she could come up with double entendres on the fly when not trying to, but the _one_ time that skill would have come in handy and she was coming up blank.

But had she really just said those words to Oliver? To Oliver freaking _the Arrow_ Queen? As her eyes flicked over his face, she saw his very seriously, unfairly gorgeous blue eyes fall to her lips and his expression was, in that moment, impossible for her to read. He inhaled deeply and squared his shoulders as he regarded her.

Yep. She'd said it alright. And she'd made it weird. _Way to go Felicity_. One interrupted date prior to the world falling apart around them hardly meant that there was anything between them. He might not have been enjoying the date before it was interrupted. And now she'd just gone and said something like that and _why_ couldn't she have been born with a better brain to mouth filter?!

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make it awkward. I know that we haven't talked about our date or us – is there even an 'us'? - or where we stand and I know that that is probably the last thing you're worried about and given everything that's happened me flirting with you – flirting poorly, I might add – is probably _so not_ what you need so I'm going to shut up now in three, tw-

She never made it to one. Instead, his hand brushed over her right cheek as he drew her face to his and without hesitancy, his lips found hers as he kissed her into silence. It was soft and tender and for the first few moments she was too stunned to respond in kind. But once her brain stopped fritzing out because _Oliver was kissing her_ she managed to kiss him back, her hand lifting to his good shoulder and grabbing a fistful of his shirt sleeve to anchor herself to as she lost herself in his lips.

When they pulled apart her features were flushed and her heart was doing a speedy little dance in her chest. But when she looked up at Oliver he was smiling down at her, his eyes bright as he gently stroked her forehead.

"Does that answer your question on where we stand?"  His words came out in a throaty whisper and she could only nod, thunderstruck. Wordlessly, he bowed his head until his forehead pressed gently to hers as he stared at her. "For the record, you and everything related to you? _Never_ the last thing I worry about." He intoned gruffly. "And you flirting – and flirting well, _I might add_ ," he teased, running a hand behind her ear to tuck away a lock of hair, "-definitely what I needed."  

Oliver's left arm came to encircle her waist and she found herself nestling comfortably against his side, her head upon his shoulder as he held her close. She heaved a contented sigh, burrowing into him as she allowed herself to finally relax. As her eyes swept over the group, she saw John's eyes lingering on her and Oliver, staring at them with a faint smile and finally offering an approving nod.

Conversation ebbed and flowed amongst the group and slowly, they began to settle in for the night. Lyla was the first to depart, insisting that if the baby was asleep, she should be too. _Apparently we're not having a slumber party in here tonight after all._ Felicity mused, watching as Lyla carried the baby up the stairs. Sin followed next, citing exhaustion from the day's rescue. Felicity hadn't been able to hold back a chuckle at the expression on Sin's face when Oliver told her she could have any room she wanted that wasn't already claimed – it was like Christmas had come early. Roy left thereafter to patrol the perimeter but not before he had engulfed Felicity in a bear hug that could have gone on for days.

"I'm really glad he found you." Roy murmured into her shoulder, squeezing her tighter as he said the words. "I was afraid when we found the Foundry empty… I really thought we lost you there." He confessed as he drew away, his hands lingering on her upper arms as he looked her over appreciatively. "I'm glad I was wrong."

When it was just her, Oliver, John, and the Lances, she felt Oliver begin to get restless, shifting his weight frequently albeit subtly as the night wore on.

"I think I'm going to call it a night." Felicity announced in a hushed voice, smiling at the group as she rose onto her feet, Oliver mirroring her actions. Going around the remainder of the half circle, she gave each of them a goodnight hug, lingering an extra moment on Captain Lance.

"I'm really happy that you found them again." Felicity motioned to Laurel and Sara, who offered small smiles in answer. "Thanks for having my 'six' out there, Captain." Felicity grinned at her own use of the vernacular and Lance only chuckled at her and nodded.

"You make a good partner." He complimented and from behind her, Felicity felt rather than saw Oliver approach.

"I've certainly always thought so." He confessed and Felicity felt her cheeks warm as she blushed beneath the compliment.

"Goodnight everyone." Felicity murmured as she departed the group, Oliver hovering just behind her, one hand on the small of her back as he guided her through the darkened halls of the mansion with only a flashlight. They didn't speak, didn't even look at each other. For as long as she'd known him, she hadn't spent all that much time in his family's home and so when he led her to the heavy wooden door, she really didn't know with any certainty where in the mansion they were.

The bedroom (if you could call a room with that much square footage a 'room' and not just a studio apartment) was lavishly furnished. She could tell that much just from what she glimpsed in the moonlight alone but when he offered her his flashlight so she could better see, her suspicions were quickly confirmed.

 There was a small fireplace on one wall, a roomy couch nestled cozily before it. The bed was cut from a dark wood and boasted a large headboard. The TV stand was filled with various forms of media (mostly outdated by today's standards – lots of CDs, she noticed with a grin) and a bookshelf was heavily laden with books. The massive window on one wall had a bench nestled beneath it, silvery blue drapes drawn back so a set of white, gauzy curtains could billow on the breeze. There was a small desk too, a simple rug here and a stand alone, floor length mirror over there.

And oh wow. The ornate trim on the walls and floorboards put standard crown molding to shame but it was the chandelier that really did her in.

There was a freaking chandelier.

In his _bedroom_.

"I hope that's not a problem." He commented from behind her and she turned sharply, looking at him in confusion.

_Oh shit_.

She'd said that out loud. Thank you brain-to-mouth filter, once again.

"Definitely not a problem. If you have a disco ball somewhere though, that _will_ be a deal breaker." She warned him teasingly, continuing to survey the room as he closed the door behind them, his hands in his pockets as he watched her take it all in.

"How'd you know this was my room?" He asked softly and she turned to face him, tilting her head knowingly and fixing him with a pointed smirk.

"Ships everywhere? It's a little too on the nose to belong to anyone else in your family except you." She commented, delighting in the miniscule chortle her words incurred. Seriously though, what kind of shipwreck victim decided to maintain his old decorating scheme when said decor happened to involve sailboats?

Apparently the same kind of shipwreck victim that went from playboy billionaire to vigilante savior of cities.

"I hope you don't think I was being too presumptuous… I just wanted to make sure you were somewhere comfortable." He explained haltingly, rubbing the back of his neck as he hovered by the door. "The bathroom is through there and I know it probably isn't much of an offer but you're welcome to anything in my closet. Or Thea's, but Roy's been sleeping in there, so just warn him before you go in there." He suggested, pointing to a closed door that would, she was certain, lead to a walk in closet that was bigger than her own bedroom. "There're also extra blankets and pillows in there, if you need them…. Help yourself to whatever you like."

Another hesitant pause and she could see him warring with himself as he tried to decide to stay or go and though she definitely knew which of those two options _she_ would prefer, she was a little absorbed in watching him fight it.

"I'll go… Make yourself at home. Please." He offered her a strained smile and wow. Chalk one up for Oliver's self control. Was he really going to leave? He totally was. As she watched, he began to turn away and though she'd enjoyed seeing him labor over the decision, the idea of him being suddenly absent from the room sent her springing into motion.

Stepping closer to him in order to close the gap between them, she grabbed his left elbow in one hand and drew him towards her, his eyes latching onto hers. And heaven help her, it really wasn't fair that his eyes were _so damn blue_.

"I'd like…I'd like if you stayed." She confessed in a hushed tone, her gaze dropping his as she instead watched her fingers bunch in the fabric of his sleeve.

"Felicity-" he warned, his breath hitching in his chest as she brought herself flush against him, her left hand dropping to ensnare his right. Her fingers twined in his and she gave a gentle tug, towing him deeper into his own room as if she owned the place.

"Oliver." She responded back, arching her brows at him as he stared down at her, clearly still warring with himself. And maybe, maybe if things were different, were _normal_ , then this might be too much too fast. But things weren't normal. The city was in shambles and everything they loved was in peril but the thing that made her heart ache to even think about losing? That thing was right in front of her, breathing beside her and making her heart race in all the right ways.

"I didn't… I didn't bring you here for that." He faltered, dropping her hand and rubbing the back of his neck as he put a couple of feet between them. Keeping his gaze on the floor, he shook his head and she could tell that he was still fighting all his carefully constructed walls and self imposed limitations.

"I know." She answered quietly, careful to give him his space in that moment.

"You almost died." He reminded her, his voice controlled but filled with what she knew was self-directed anger and guilt. "Because of me. Because I messed up."

Well, that was being pretty harsh, but he was always harsh on himself. It was ridiculous. And also charming in a messed up kind of way. He held himself to a higher standard than anyone else. The kind of standard that was impossible to maintain while also being human and therefore imperfect.

'It wasn't your fault, Oliver."

"You were in a coma because a man that was after me tracked me to that restaurant, Felicity. I put you in danger. You could have died in the explosion. You could have died in the coma. You could have died when I took you out of the hospital." He prattled off, his voice rising as he listed the numerous ways she could have died.

"But I didn't."

"But-"

"No." She cut him off, shaking her head firmly. "No 'buts'. I am here. And I am fine. And that is thanks to you. So I don't want to hear you blame yourself for this anymore." She whispered urgently, closing the gap between them with a hurried step as her hands found his waist and the flashlight dropped from her hands.

It wasn't at all the way she'd pictured it. But as the flashlight clattered to the floor and cast an errant beam of light, Felicity was not concerned about making what she'd envisioned match up to reality.

 Her hands splayed at his hips and slowly began to run up his sides, halting midway up his ribcage as she rose onto the tips of her toes and leaned into him expectantly. Felicity paused an inch from his face, waiting for him to close the gap between them, more than willing but needing him to take that last small step. And she could see it in his eyes – the hesitation as he warred with himself.

It was a short lived internal war.

He leaned into her roughly, cradling the back of her head in one hand as his left hand grabbed her hip and held her close as he kissed her. His lips felt unreasonably cool against her lips, no doubt chilled by the cold night air billowing in from the open windows. She was keenly aware of how hot her skin was in comparison to his and it was then that she remembered the jacket she still wore, the leather like a living thing as it trapped the heat of her body against her.

So that was why he was so warm to the touch all the time. The leather. _Not the time to think about this_ , she reminded herself sharply. She could marvel at his jacket and its warmth later; right now she was far more concerned with the original wearer of her green leather body armor than the actual article of clothing itself.

She drew his lower lip between hers and sucked on it roughly, reveling in his soft exhale of response as she reclined slowly away from him, breaking contact with his lips to stare into his eyes intently. And in those moments, she felt indomitable. Her fingers reached out to twine through his hands and with a gentle tug, she towed him after her as she moved deeper into his bedroom. Wearing _his_ jacket, leading _him_ through _his_ room, taking the lead in this little dance they had started, pulling him with her over the edge without bothering to look down.

He followed her eagerly, letting himself be led to the couch nearest the fireplace where she sat down quickly. And once she had pulled him down next to her, he wasted no time in finding her lips once again. He kissed her with a slow thoroughness now, exploring and experimenting as he clearly tried to determine what would make her shiver.

He was good at that, she was quickly learning.

His tongue stroked hers softly before he pulled away from her and pressed a single kiss to the corner of her mouth before he moved to kiss along her jaw and then down to her throat. He had the same lethal accuracy with kisses as he did with arrows, she found. Because as he moved his face back up to kiss her lips, his fingers touched expertly at her throat, massaging gently and _frack that felt good_.

His fingers left her neck, replaced once more by his lips as he kissed and sucked at her still tingling flesh, prompting ripples of pleasure to radiate through her. She inhaled raggedly as he continued in his unhurried but meticulous ministrations  that left her heart beating at an ever increasing tempo. When she finally could take no more, Felicity pulled his face back to hers and kissed him with reckless abandon. She had held back for so long and now. Now she wasn't going to – not tonight. Not with him. Not after everything.

Having kissed him to the point of breathlessness they broke apart briefly, his forehead leaning gently against hers in a simple but intimate move. Her chest still heaving as she caught her breath, Felicity met his eyes, seeing the question in them. 

She shifted on the couch, throwing one leg across his waist to straddle him in a slow, pointed movement as he looked up at her with wide eyed wonder. Splaying her hands across his chest, Felicity leaned down slowly and pressed a kiss to his forehead, another to the tip of his nose, and then she planted a long, languid kiss on his lips as her hands bunched in the fabric of his shirt. His hands lifted to her thighs, smoothing the fabric of her jeans as his thumbs rubbed in small, repetitive circles. And even as they kissed, his hands traveled, his palms swiftly moving to cup her backside.

Her fingers traced down his chest, seeking and quickly finding the hem of his shirt before she began to pull it up and over his head. In silent compliance, Oliver's hands left her body, rising over his head to assist her as she rid him of his clothes. And there was something so gratifying, something so _empowering_ about the way he let her undress him that she couldn't help but smile delightedly as her hands slid along his bare chest, carefully skirting his bandaged shoulder.

She took her time now, her fingers gently running over the indentations of his abs, the tough, knotted swells of his scars. She lingered on his Bratva tattoo, her fingers tracing along the outline of the star before she lowered her lips to his skin and placed a feather-light kiss to the center of it. And then she was lost in kissing him, kissing each scar that littered his battered body as if she could take the hurt and kiss it away.

" _Felicity_." He murmured, his voice rasping softly in her ear as she kissed at the scar just along the waistband of his pants. Smirking, she lifted her gaze up to his and, while holding eye contact with him she pressed a soft kiss to his navel, delighting in watching his features pinch as he clearly tried to maintain his own self control.

" _Oliver_." She answered back in a throaty whisper, only for him to grab her by both elbows so he could haul her to him, his mouth leaving a trail of furious kisses down her jawline and throat, kissing his way down until he reached the hem of her shirt and he looked at her in a way that made her legs turn to jelly.

His hands moved up her sides and to her shoulders as he eased his jacket off of her (taking extra care with her bad shoulder) before he unceremoniously tossed it aside. For the barest of moments Felicity felt the absence of the supple leather, the cold air like a sharp smack on her warm skin. But then he was there, pressing gentle kisses on the inside of her elbows and wrists, his hands running up and down her skin so as to warm her with his own body.

Felicity traced her index finger down his chest until her fingers reached his  waistline and then she fumbled with his belt, undoing it enough so that she could get at the button and zipper that lay beneath. She'd managed to get the button undone before Oliver's hands grabbed hers, effectively stopping her efforts to undress him.

"Felicity," he panted urgently, looking up at her with eyes that spoke of coming heartbreak and she fell still, the pleasant warmth and confidence that had been building in her suddenly wavering.

"If you say 'because of the life that I lead', so help me Oliver Queen, I will put two of your arrows through my own ears." Felicity warned sharply and he chortled, shaking his head in response to her.

"I was going to ask if you were…sure." He clarified, looking so suddenly serious that she had to swallow back her nerves, relieved that he apparently wasn't trying to talk her out of doing this because of who he was or what he did. She knew who he was, she knew what he did – and she was still here.

"Yes." She answered back quickly, nodding with a dazed little smile at him, the same smile she'd worn when he'd first asked her out on that ill-fated date not so long ago.

"I just… I don't want this to be something you regret or… some reckless reaction to the outbreak." He murmured in a low voice as he stared at her searchingly. And she understood – really, she did. But in that moment it was taking all of _her_ self control not to just _show_ him how much she wanted this.

"Oliver… Me wanting this?" She motioned to the two of them vaguely with one hand while the other still lingered near his undone belt. Swallowing, she searched for words and then started over, trying her best to put this delicately so as not to scare him off. "Me wanting this _definitely_ predates the Outbreak. _And_ our date." She confessed. And it was true – she'd felt _something_ for him – even if she hadn't wanted to admit it – since long before people had been dropping dead and coming back as walking, biting corpses. Before Werner Zytle, before Wilson Slade and his Mirakuru soldiers, before Russia and so many other moments that they had shared, she had wanted this on some level.

And she really didn’t want to miss out now just because the world had gone a little crazy (okay, _a lot crazy_ ) while she'd been in a coma. In answer, Oliver tilted his head back to stare at her in surprise, clearly not having expected such a response but not about to question the veracity of her claim.

"Stand up." She murmured and his brows arched in surprise, then sloped down as he frowned, confused. Slipping off of the couch before him, she held out an expectant hand and crooked a finger at him, beckoning him to follow. He eased himself off the couch and stood before her, waiting as she moved to close the gap between them, her fingers once more working at the fastenings of his pants. As she slid the zipper neatly down, she looked up to meet his gaze, her expression serious. "Now," she intoned with slow, careful emphasis, " take off _your pants_." She uttered in an undertone, watching delightedly as he blinked down at her in shock.

He complied then albeit slowly, keeping his eyes firmly trained on hers as he first kicked off his boots and then shucked off his pants – though not without a little difficulty. Leather pants, as she had suspected, were not easily pried off. Standing before her in only his boxers, he fixed her with a small smile then, his doubts over her certainty apparently now eased.

"Your turn." He whispered in her ear before he gently slipped her glasses off and set them down on the end table beside the couch. Staring at him pointedly, she lifted her arms up and in answer, his fingers hooked around the hem of her shirt and hiked it over her head before he let it fall to the couch behind him. "Pants." He murmured, nodding her direction and mimicking his course of action, she kept looking at him as she kicked off her shoes, her attempt at a sultry smolder punctuated by a wince as one of her shoes clattered into something and a sharp _crash_ followed suit.

"Sorry." She apologized with a wince, only for Oliver to shake his head as he pulled her towards him, his hands going to her hips to help her slide her borrowed jeans off of her legs.

"I never liked that lamp." He muttered a little breathlessly as she leaned into him and shimmied the last length of fabric off her legs, left before him in only her undergarments. His arms wrapped around her, leaving her skin feeling hot wherever he touched her. His lips were everywhere as he kissed her fiercely, his last walls having come down to let his long caged desire run free.

It was a mutual sense of bliss as they kissed fervently, hands roving one another's bodies, lips carving messy, passionate paths of kisses across one another's bodies. She curled an arm behind his neck and towed him along with her as she walked backwards until the backs of her thighs hit the bedframe and she tumbled backwards, pulling him down atop her.

He was careful to keep the bulk of his weight off of her as he loomed over her on his hands and knees, his lips trailing burning kisses between her breasts and down to her navel. He placed a single, feverish kiss just below her belly button and above the plain black cotton hemline of her underwear and she felt her body shudder appreciatively, the blood in her head pounding as her heart raced.

Rolling suddenly, she pushed him down on the bed and shifted so she was atop him, a soft, exhaling laugh leaving her at the expression of astonishment on his face as she straddled him once more. With slow, purposeful movements, she pulled her hair free from its ponytail and shook it out. Leaning down over his face, her hair formed a golden curtain around him as she once more bent to taste his lips, running her tongue slowly across his. She was glorying in the intoxicating sense of power she felt with Oliver Queen quivering beneath her after so much wanting and waiting. Here was a man with the power to extinguish life, a man who unofficially ruled a city, and he was lying between her thighs, an eager, willing, tender partner. At last.

Still atop him, she broke from their kiss and moved her hands to cover his, guiding him to the small of her back so he could hold her. Then she moved her fingers to the clasp of her bra and hesitated there as she spoke in a low, level voice.

"In the coma… I could hear things. Voices." She explained, deftly unhooking her bra. "It took me a while to remember; everything was foggy at first after I woke up." She continued, slipping one strap down her left shoulder. "But I do remember your voice." She continued, letting the strap on her right shoulder fall. "In the foundry." She murmured, letting the bra slip off her figure before she threw it to the floor beside the bed, her eyes on his as she stared down at him. Then, leaning down, her lips brushed against his ear.

"I love you too, Oliver." She confessed, sighing softly as she relieved herself of the burden that that knowledge had been to her. The memory of his voice, reaching to her through the darkness of her coma. _I will be back for you. I promise._ He'd whispered the words with all the reverence of a prayer. _I'm going to get Diggle. And Lyla. And the baby. And then we're going to come back for you. You hear me?_ He'd asked her and she had – she'd _heard_ him, even lost in the dark as she was. And then. _I love you_. She had so feared dying with those words left unrequited and now… While she would not welcome death, she at least would not list this as a regret if she died tomorrow.

"I do. I love you." She assured him, searching his face for some sign that he understood the import of what had just transpired.

In answer, he buried his fingers in her hair, pulling her face to his as his lips burned across hers and he devoured her, his hands rubbing invisible patterns across her skin before coming up to cup her breasts. He then kissed them each in turn, biting and sucking his way across her body. More than once she gasped as his teeth skimmed across her skin sharply here and there, and already she could see a darkening of skin where he had left a love mark – intentionally or not, she didn't care. She gave herself up to him willingly then, letting her own hands touch the planes of scarred flesh that before, she had only ever ogled or tended to as doctor. Now, set free, she could have roamed his body for lifetimes, finding new things to delight in, new ways to make him groan.

He kissed his way across her stomach and when he kissed her thighs she melted against him, eyes wide as her fingers grasped at the back of his head to haul him up to her lips once again. As they kissed, she worked to pull his boxers off and he, in turn rolled away from her to grab blindly at his nightstand and _oh_. Good thing he had the presence of mine to think about practicality because currently, practicality was escaping her by miles. When he rolled back to her, he was quick to divest her of her simple black cotton panties and then…

This, this was what it felt like to be consumed by flames, to burn white hot. Her skin felt raw, every touch sending her nerve endings tingling, exploding with sensory overload. But she didn't care, couldn't care, because as overwhelming as it was to be consumed by the heat of his body against hers, it was what she had been craving, fantasizing for so long and she was lost in it.

"I love you, Felicity Smoak." His voice was a low rumble in her ear as he said it and she felt like the roaring of the blood in her ears and the uneven staccato of her heart must surely have made her mishear but he'd said it and there were no tricks, no sleight of hand this time. _He loved her_.

"I like the sound of that." She hummed as he buried his face into her hair, murmuring it for her over and over again.

_"I love you, Felicity Smoak."_ He repeated for her benefit, earning the warmest smile she had to offer. She pulled him to her fiercely then, the emotions too great to hold back the tide any longer. And even as the world continued to fall apart around them, Felicity lost herself in Oliver's arms time and again that night before she fell asleep in the arms of the man that she loved.

\----------

Morning dawned and she found herself still wrapped up in his limbs; one of his legs twined through hers, his arm slung protectively over her waist and her head nestled against his chest. Her body felt wrung out and dull pain seemed to echo in her limbs. Even her head ached – though she attributed that to the fact that he had a wooden headboard that tragically, was _not_ padded.

She tried to detangle herself from his grasp unsuccessfully, though her efforts were only halfhearted, in truth. She didn't want to wake him up and really, she wasn't about to complain about waking up tangled in Oliver Queen's arms. And legs. _Naked_ arms and legs and other bits.

Nope. No problems with that. Nuh-uh.

She had just settled and decided to try and drift back to sleep when a sudden, loud knocking on the door had her bolting upright in unison with Oliver, still half asleep and grasping about for a weapon (and coming up with a knife she hadn't known was within arm's reach). A moment later, the door opened to admit Roy into the room, Diggle hot on his heels.

"-said to wait a minute!" Diggle finished in a huff, staring pointedly at the ceiling as Felicity gawped at the two men, mortified, and dove for the covers. In her haste, however, she failed to take note of where the edge of the bed was and so, she wound up in a graceless heap on the floor. On the bright side, that put the bed between her and them, so she at least had that small visual barrier to hide her. After a moment's scramble, she flung a sheet over herself and stood clutching it to her front as she stared at the two men in horror.

" _Don't you knock?!_ " She gasped and Roy looked at her with brows arched high in amusement.

"I did knock. _And then I entered_." He smirked and Felicity knew from the heat of her cheeks that she must be brick red. Beside her, finally attaining some modicum of wakefulness, Oliver stirred. He seemed perturbed and she could tell from the set of his jaw that her mortification was probably fueling his anger over the intrusion.

" _Roy_." Oliver snapped and Felicity was pleased to see the smirk on Roy's face shrivel up as Oliver stared at him with his genuine disapproving stare, clearly far from amused. "Was there a reason you came barging in on us or were you looking for me to put an arrow through you?" Oliver inquired severely and Roy stared at the floor as Diggle cleared his throat and spoke up.

"Lyla had Roy help her juice up the CB radio broadcast last night and now it's receiving an incoming message… It's from Central City." Diggle explained, pointedly averting his eyes from the bed – a fact for which Felicity was deeply appreciative. "And…" John trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.

"And?" She asked uncertainly, her voice coming out much higher pitched than she'd intended.

"It's encrypted. We can't make heads or tails of it." Roy added. "But we know that it originated from STAR Labs. We figure maybe it's some of your nerd friends."

Felicity was still for a moment as the ramifications of their suspicions permeated her brain, her neurons firing rapidly as she pieced together the potential import of this encrypted message. From STAR Labs. It could be Caitlin, or Cisco – what if they had information that could help? What if they had a cure?

"Give me two seconds!" Felicity exclaimed, crouching down as she felt about the floor for clothes and came up with only Oliver's green Arrow jacket. Well, it would have to do. She pulled the cool leather on over her bare skin, zipping the front up before she shook her hair out behind her. There – she was at least _half_ covered, the sheet now clutched protectively about her waist as she sought out her long lost pants. _Where had he tossed them when he'd helped her take them off last night?_

"Why don't we just give you two a minute?" John suggested, grabbing Roy by the collar and physically towing him out of the room before he could protest. As the door closed behind them, Felicity heard Roy mumbling under his breath.

"- _knew they'd still be in bed._ _They were at it late enough_."

As the door closed behind them, she dropped the sheet and sank onto the bed, her face in her hands as she let out a mortified groan. Beside her, she felt Oliver shift, pressing his face to her neck and kissing her sweetly.

"Don't worry, I don't think they saw anything." He offered consolingly, only for her to shake her head in vehement disagreement.

"They saw us in bed together. That is like, the very definition of 'something'." Felicity shot back. She was never going to live this down… Nope.

"Well to be fair, it's not like they didn't know." Oliver commented and she stared at him, aghast, and he grinned. "Oh come on Felicity. We went to bed at the same time. In the same room. If that didn't tip them off, then what they heard last night certainly did." He teased, pressing a kiss to her leather clad shoulder as he rolled off of the bed and onto his feet.

"And what exactly did they hear last night, Oliver? I thought they were on the other side of the mansion?" She queried as he pulled his pants on, grinning at her widely as he tossed her pants onto the bed for her.

"Yes, they are... But they would have to be a bit farther away to avoid hearing you last night - I'm pretty sure even patrolling they could hear you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked indignantly, feeling a prickle of self consciousness. As he pulled his black tee on over his head he beamed at her and leaned over to press a kiss to her lips, silencing her momentarily before he pulled away, still grinning like an idiot.

"It means you, Felicity Smoak, are _loud_."


	15. Chapter 15

By the time Felicity and Oliver had made it to the room Lyla was using as her command center, Roy and John had already gathered there, as well as Sin, Laurel, and Captain Lance. She made a concentrated effort to avoid Roy's gaze because well… You couldn't _unsee_ things and Roy had definitely seen things. Things that she really hadn't intended on being seen and widely known and _ugh_ this was mortifying. She needed to focus on something else. Like the problem at hand. Taking a quick glance around, Felicity saw Oliver registering who was absent.

"Sara out patrolling?" He queried and Diggle nodded.

"Yeah, she relieved me about twenty minutes ago." Digg answered, looking at Oliver knowingly. "I gave her a full run down before she went and she assured me she was up for it." Diggle tried to calm Oliver, who gave a tight nod. It was clear to Felicity that he was anxious to go out patrolling and didn't appreciate being sidelined, even if only for a night.

Even a really, _really_ good night. Or at least, what qualified as a really good night for her. Maybe it hadn't been for him? Oh gosh she really needed to _not think about that now_.

"What have we got, Lyla?" Oliver inquired, turning his attention to the brunette who was seated at the desk of computer screens and radio boxes. Snapping back to the present, Felicity followed his gaze, squinting at the computer screen and then huffing irritably until she remembered her glasses were atop her head.

_Much better_.

"Well, last night I had Roy boost our signal with some specs Felicity had given us. It must have worked, because we just got an encrypted broadcast. I was able to determine its point of origin was Central City – specifically STAR Labs – but the encryption is beyond my decoding skills." She confessed, swiveling in her chair to face Felicity. "I was hoping you might be able to help with that?"

Felicity felt all eyes in the room turn to her and for a brief moment, she was swallowed up in a tidal wave of panic so intense, she felt like she might drown in it.

They were living in an unprecedented, dangerous time. They were all at risk and in that moment, Felicity was acutely aware of the burden being placed on her. Now her tech skills were not just putting people in jail and getting bad guys off the street – although those were still noble things – but now her skills were being relied on to stay alive. To keep the people she loved most safe and breathing and not turning into walking corpses. _To survive_. And that burden was not one that she took lightly, by any means.

"I can definitely try; just give me a keyboard." Felicity's voice was quiet but bolstered with the steely determination she felt strengthening her will.

Lyla was quick to offer up her spot at the computer station and Felicity swapped places with her and cracked her knuckles pointedly, her fingers hovering above the keys.

"Come to Mama." She muttered under her breath to the keyboard as muscle memory guided her fingers into place. There was a moment's stillness as her fingertips fit to the subtle grooves in the keys and then she began to type. _Furiously_. She was tapping away at the keys as her eyes skimmed the lines of code before her as swiftly as she could manage. Here, here was order even amongst the chaos all around them. Here her ones and zeros, her coding and hacking, it was all still there, intact and untouched. The logical framework where she could problem solve and come up with creative solutions. She couldn't necessarily shoot an arrow into somebody's skull and come swooping in to save the day but here? At this computer terminal? Felicity once more felt some semblance of normalcy and control.

It didn't take her too long to decode the message; she was quick to pick up on the breadcrumbs that had been intentionally left for her and in a matter of minutes she was unlocking some of the message's contents. And as she did, she couldn't help but _laugh_.

"Okay, I know I'm no tech guru but is anyone else concerned that she's laughing?" Roy asked quizzically, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder in Felicity's direction.

"Felicity?" Oliver queried gently and she could only shake her head as relieved tears flowed down her cheeks.

"It's Cisco!" She announced brightly, beaming through the tears. "H-He's alive! Or at least he was when he sent this. He was using Wired Equivalent Privacy to fully encrypt the message but I broke into the WEP access point." She babbled by way of explanation, earning confused glances from everyone gathered tightly around her computer.

"Did anyone else understand a word of that?" Laurel asked with raised brows and Felicity adjusted her glasses sheepishly.  

"Cisco encoded the message but I cracked the code." Felicity explained, turning back to the computer and striking a few quick keys to make the message play across the small speakers.

"This is Cisco Ramon. I work at STAR Labs in Central City and if you're listening to this message, I _really_ hope you're Felicity Smoak. And if you're not, props on your decryption skills, bro."

Cisco's familiar voice came out of the speaker's and Felicity's heart raced joyfully at the notion that her friends in Central City were still alive and hopefully, well.

"Felicity, if you can hear this, you have to get to STAR Labs, like… _yesterday_." Cisco's voice rushed and then there was a shuffling noise in the background as another voice sounded, this time more distantly.

"Would you get to the point? We need to keep this sound file short." Caitlin's voice reminded Cisco tersely, echoing vaguely as the message was now replayed. Then, more loudly as she presumably took control of the recording, Caitlin continued. "Felicity, our ah 'mutual friend' _you-know-who_ is awake."

"You know who? Seriously what is he, Voldemort?" Cisco queried and Felicity had to stifle a laugh.

"CISCO!" Caitlin shushed him loudly before resuming her message. "And he told us about your ah 'connections' with someone that could help us. We need you, Felicity. And the Arrow. Please. We may have something that could help with the outbreak but we need protection and your tech skills. It's umm… It's a long story but you need to get here. Fast."

There was a muffled conversation as Cisco and Caitlin conversed in a low undertone and then once more, Cisco spoke.

"Based on our projections the fastest route would be to follow the train tracks from Starling to Central City but be careful; satellite imaging shows some mad sized groups of infected people roaming around in the nearby areas." Cisco warned and Felicity felt a thrill of joy as the aforementioned satellite imaging and maps sprang up on her screen and not for the first time, she was thankful for the tech and know how that STAR Labs had bestowed upon Cisco and Caitlin.

"Please, Felicity. If the Arrow is alive and you are in contact with him, we need you both. As soon as possible – it's a matter of life and death." Caitlin's pleading voice seemed to reach through the air waves and grab Felicity by the shoulders in a vice like grip.

"And resurrection, technically." Cisco put in before the message clipped off and the speakers went dead. For a moment, the silence seemed to seep into the room and all of the group was quiet as they processed what they had heard. And then.

"So when are we leaving?" Roy queried enthusiastically, glancing from Oliver to Diggle and back again.

"Woah, who said anything about leaving? How do you know you're not walking into some trap? Who's this Cisco guy? How do we know this isn't going to turn into a circus like what happened with Miss Smoak's last message – with apologies." Quentin Lance mumbled hurriedly, casting Felicity an apologetic glance.

"Johnny, the baby." Lyla murmured softly.

"Hey I didn't sign on for rescue missions." Sin stated nervously, raising her hands before her.

"Central City is six hundred miles away." Laurel stated anxiously.

"Enough!" Oliver growled loudly, silencing the swirl of conversation that had kicked up in the wake of Cisco's message. Turning to Felicity, he stared at her intently. "Mutual friend – I assume they mean-"

"Barry? Yeah, that was my guess." Felicity responded with a bob of her head and Oliver nodded then swallowed.

"You know Cisco and Caitlin, Felicity. At least, more than any of us. Did that sound like they were under duress?" Oliver questioned and Felicity pursed her lips in thought and shook her head.

"No, they sounded fine to me."

"Playing fast and loose with the word 'fine'." Roy mumbled judgmentally and Oliver shot him a scowl, to which the youth shrugged unapologetically.

"Okay yeah, they babble a little bit. So do I. I guess it's a nerd thing but that was 'fine' by their standards." Felicity defended, focusing her attention back on Oliver. "But I do trust them. And they're really, _really_ smart. Like, genius level smart. So if they say they have a way that they could fix things, I believe them."

"They just conveniently need your assistance to make it happen." Oliver mused with a heavy sigh and Felicity rose from the computer chair and drew herself up before him with a huff.

"What's that supposed to mean? You don't think I can help fix this?"

"It means that I don't want to risk your life across six hundred miles of Vertigo-infested train tracks for a cure that doesn't work! It means, I don't want to get us into another mess like what happened with Zytle! It means I don't want to leave the others if we don't have to!"

This sent the group back into a tizzy.

"Woah wait, 'leave the others'? There's no way you're leaving me behind." Roy intervened, jutting his chin out as he met Oliver's gaze with a determined one of his own.

"Yeah, not happening, Ollie You can't go out there just the two of you; it isn't safe." Laurel stated, crossing her arms before her reticently.

"Everybody, why don't we calm down and talk this out?" John interrupted, holding his hands aloft to silence the growing unrest amongst the group. Felicity remained where she was beside Oliver, her eyes combing over their little band of survivors.

Her initial reaction was that they, of course, had to go to Caitlin and Cisco's aid; to ignore their plea seemed unthinkable. But as she stared at their group, she realized what a daunting challenge and potential sacrifice that would require them all to make.

John and Lyla had their daughter to think of. Their weeks old daughter who would, with absolute certainty, cry and fuss and make noise, even when it wasn't necessarily opportune to do so. Laurel and Sara had their father to think of, who between his time alone and with Felicity, was a little worse for wear. Coupled with Quentin's heart condition and the six hundred miles to Central City was probably not what the doctor would have ordered for the good Captain. Sin was too attached to Sara to leave and even if she wasn't, the girl had no obligation to stay with the group – who were, with the exception of Roy – basically strangers to her.

Only Roy was likely to want to join them, but Felicity could tell Oliver already intended on leaving him behind – no doubt for his own protection, as well as the others. Leaving Roy would leave another person to take watch at the mansion, to protect the loved ones left behind. Even if it meant taking on the added risk to themselves, Felicity understood why Oliver would want to leave Roy behind, despite his objections.

But already, the others were rebuking the idea of splitting up. And just like that, rushing to Caitlin and Cisco became a much less easy decision to make.

"They only asked for Felicity and I." Oliver began in a low, controlled tone. "It's too dangerous, too far for all of us to go together.  You're talking easily a ten hour drive in _good_ traffic conditions. We'd be risking too much. The baby isn't old enough to be on the road like that. Captain Lance is still recovering. John, if your family is staying, you should stay. If Lance is staying, Laurel – you and Sara should both stay. And Roy, if all of them stay, they'll need you to help them keep watch. This would be too much for just Diggle and Sara to guard for the long term." Oliver rationalized and Roy shook his head in vehement disapproval.

"But two is enough to take on six hundred miles of the infected? Sounds pretty hypocritical to me." Roy sneered angrily and Felicity quickly placed a hand on Oliver's arm as he flinched forward. Her touch drew him up instantly and the two shared a look before Felicity stepped forward towards Roy.

"Roy, Oliver's right. We'll need you to stay here – just until we come back. We'll have help when we get to Central City. STAR Labs has um… a 'vigilante' of their own that can help. Oliver and I… We'll be fine." Felicity assured him, only for him to shrug away from her outstretched arm.

"Well of course you'd take his side, you're screwing him."

The room went silent and Felicity felt her own jaw drop open, her whole face feeling like it was on fire. _He did not just go there_! Oh gosh, how badly was she blushing right now? This was so not how she imagined telling people about her and Oliver. Especially his ex-girlfriend, of all people.

"ROY!" Oliver barked, directing his protégé's attention off of Felicity as he stepped forward, subtly moving to stand between Roy and Felicity. "You have followed me this far. The dead have literally come back to life and you have stuck by me. So just do as I say and follow me just a little bit longer and then maybe, _just maybe_ , we can end all of this." Oliver encouraged, placing one hand on either of Roy's shoulders. The two stared each other down intently for what seemed like years but was only moments before Roy finally hung his head.

"Yeah. Okay. I'll stay here." He conceded, clearly none too pleased.

"Yeah about that – I don't know that that's such a great option." Diggle, quiet for so long, finally interjected, bringing Oliver spinning to face him.

"What?"

"Oliver, since you and Sara left, things have been getting more active over here. We're seeing increased numbers of infected making it onto the grounds. This place may feel safe to you because it's home, but it's not an easily defended base of operations. There's too much ground to cover, too many points of entry. If a herd comes through, we're easy targets here." Diggle explained nervously, as Lyla and Roy nodded in the background. Glancing to Roy, Oliver scowled.

"You knew about this and you waited until now to tell me?" He accused and both men stirred to respond but it was Lyla who spoke first.

"I told them you needed at least a night to recover. Oliver, you've been going all out since this thing started. I told them to give you a night off so you could rest-" and here, Lyla's eyes  flicked momentarily over Felicity and the blonde felt her cheeks turn hot once more, "-and refocus." Lyla explained.

"That wasn't your decision to make."

"Well it needed to be made; you were in no fit state. You still aren't 100%, if we're being honest. Look at your shoulder. Oliver, you need to tone it down. You keep going like this and you're going to get yourself killed… Or worse." Lyla added in a low but firm voice that had Oliver's eyes and nostrils flaring.

"Fine. I took a night off. But I'm good now so explain to me where you think we're going to go if we aren't going to stay here." Oliver demanded and John exhaled as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Lyla and I have been trying to look at surrounding areas but…"

"But?" Oliver prodded and John seemed to wilt a little, even as Lyla grabbed his hand and gave it a quick squeeze.

"Oliver, we can't go on the road. Not with the baby. She's too young. She'll cry and then where does that leave us? We can't hide a baby, we can't make her be quiet." John explained and Felicity felt her stomach bottom out as she considered the hell that John and Lyla had been living with, knowing that the mansion wasn't safe but not having any safer alternatives to turn to for their daughter.

"Are y-… Are you giving up?" Oliver asked quietly and Felicity could see the hollow expression on Oliver's face as he regarded his brother in arms.

"No! No, Oliver we're not." John assured quickly, stepping forward and clapping a heavy hand on Oliver's shoulder. "But I need you. I need your help. If we're going to hold down the fort while you and Felicity go to Central City, then we've got to search for a new base. Someplace smaller, more defensible. Before you go, I need your help on this, man." John said quietly and Oliver met his gaze. The two seemed to communicate without words for a time and then with a nod, Oliver relaxed.

"Alright. We'll stay, at least until we find someplace safer."

Felicity bit her lip, swallowing down her mixed emotions; she desperately wanted to go to Central City before it was too late. But she also didn't want to leave her friends any more vulnerable than they already were. If she and Oliver made the trek to Central City and the cure proved ineffective, they needed to be certain that their loved ones were as safe as they could make them.

Oliver turned to look at her. And for all her worries and fears about making a decision one way or the other, Felicity knew there was no decision to make – they had to lookout for their own. She nodded wordlessly, watching as Lyla and John both visibly relaxed as the decision was made.

"Thank you." John said hoarsely, reaching a hand to Oliver which he accepted and shook firmly.

"What are brothers for?" Oliver answered back quietly, turning slowly on his heel as he scooted towards the doorway. "I'm going to go change, then I'll relieve Sara… And from now on? No more waiting to tell me news. Even if I'm exhausted, or on death's door." Oliver intoned warningly, his brows lifted expectantly at Lyla. The brunette stared him down for a moment and then gave a cool nod, clearly not about to apologize for her decision but respecting his need to be included.

As he departed the room, Felicity watched him go but stayed put; whatever personal feelings she had urging her to go after him so they could actually talk about what had happened the night before, she knew their friends needed her here now. And so here she would stay. Definitely not thinking about Oliver. In bed. No.

Okay, she could daydream a little and still work on sending back an encrypted message to Cisco and Caitlin. Someone with her IQ could multitask.

"Lyla, what's our power situation look like? I've got to respond to this message from Cisco…"

\-----

His boots crunched on the loose gravel of the walking path as he made his way around the perimeter of the grounds. He'd stopped to grab one of his motorcycle jackets out of his closet, seeing as Felicity was still wearing his Arrow jacket. And he had no intentions of asking her to take that off (unless he was there to help her). Leather, he thought, might become something of a wardrobe requirement for them all. Especially if things were deteriorating as rapidly as John had said. Leather, at least, could protect against bites.

As a breeze blew through the trees, he instinctively went to draw up his hood, only to stop when he realized that the jacket he now wore had no such feature. Smiling at the thought of putting the hood up on Felicity and kissing her, he shook his head and tried to get his head back in the game.

He didn't regret what had happened with Felicity. Not a moment of it. But it had had the unintended consequence of making him that much more fearful for her safety, that much more protective of her. And that much more prone to losing his focus. If he was going to protect her and the others, he couldn't be wandering around like a lovesick teenager wondering when he'd get to kiss her again or make her cry out his name in the dark.

A snapping of twigs drew his attention and he turned, instantly tense as he waited for the maker of the noise to make themselves known. With his heart beating quickly, Oliver waited. _One second._ Nothing. _Two seconds_. Still nothing. _Three seconds_.

"Sara?" He called out in a low voice, his skin tingling as his eyes swung this way and that, searching for the unseen source of the noise.

And then he heard the telltale gasping. Ducking to the right, Oliver reached for the knife he'd jammed into his boot, his fingers closing on the hilt of the blade at the same moment that the infected woman came stumbling out of the trees. With outstretched hands and the death rattle breathing of the infected, she rushed at him and was upon him, hands scrabbling for purchase against the slick material of his jacket.

Twisting, Oliver threw her down the slight incline and watched as her corpse rolled, a loud _snap_ sounding as she went. When she rose, it was on one foot, the other bent at an unnatural angle. Still, she came staggering back towards him and so with gritted teeth, Oliver jammed the knife through the side of her head, wincing at the sound of the blade sinking deep into her skull. Her body went lax before him and he eased her down onto the ground before he pried his knife free from her skull, breathing a little heavier as he turned this way and that, looking for more.

Another crackling sound on his left had him leaping to his feet, panic in his voice.

"Sara?" He growled hopefully, waiting with thunderous heartbeats for a response he wasn't sure would come.

"I wondered how long it would take you to come out here."

Sara's voice called to him from ten meters to the northwest and he immediately altered his course, rushing to her at a dead sprint. He slowed as he caught sight of her ambling out from behind the trees, looking none too concerned as she strolled closer to him, looking him over with mildly entertained eyes.

"If I had known how bad things were, I would have come sooner." He commented darkly, staring at the bloodied edge of her bo staff with critical eyes. Following his gaze, Sara tucked the weapon in the crook of her arm to hide it from view some and instead fixed him with a piercing gaze.

"Nothing we can't handle." Sara answered back and Oliver frowned as he approached his friend, his eyes sweeping the trees as a sense of unease hit him. _Someone else was here_.

"And who exactly is 'we'?" Oliver queried uneasily, one hand instinctively going to reach for his bow. Before his fingers touched on it, however, Sara lifted her hands pleadingly for him to stop and she backed up a few steps, extending one hand, palm up.

From behind a nearby tree there was a ripple of movement and as Oliver watched, a black and red clad figure stepped into view. Her black cloak billowed in the breeze and her long black hair and hood hid her face but Oliver knew right away who it was he was looking upon.

"Nyssa." Oliver said in a clipped, civil tone.

"Oliver Queen; you have a lovely home." Nyssa commented simply, staring at him idly as she slid back her hood and took Sara's hand in her own, her eyes shining as she looked upon the blonde. "Sara tells me you've given her and her family safe quarter here. For that, I offer you my thanks." Nyssa murmured in a low voice as she continued to look upon the Canary, seemingly indifferent to Oliver's appearance.

"I did it for them, not you. Your thanks are unnecessary." Oliver retorted sharply, prompting Sara to scowl at him and shake her head subtly. Sighing, he closed his eyes and reined himself in. No need to stir up trouble. "What are you doing here, Nyssa?"

Well. He'd tried. Sort of.

"I came when word of the outbreak reached the League." Nyssa explained, glancing to Sara. "I was too late to accompany Sara, so I found passage for myself, against my father's wishes."

"You defied your father? Nyssa, I was afraid he would send someone after me when I left. But if _you_ defied him, he'll send the entire League-"

"The League dare not venture beyond Nanda Parbat for fear of the virus. My father will not stray from the pit and he permits no man among them to leave. We have nothing to fear on their account." Nyssa assured Sara and Oliver watched as the blonde visibly relaxed, her fears diminished at Nyssa's words.

"So you want to join us, then." He said it as a statement rather than as a question, his voice tired. Here was another person to be responsible for, to protect. Not that Nyssa needed protecting – far from it – but he would feel responsible for her safety nonetheless if she joined them. She would be another mouth to feed, another head to shelter, another life to safeguard.

"I need not impose. I merely needed to know that Sara was safe. I was rather concerned, given that I found your group by following the sound of gunfire in the city." Nyssa responded tersely, looking him up and down with a look that said she was none too impressed with his abilities to protect those around him, based on what she'd seen. "I can make other accommodations for myself." Nyssa assured, clearly attempting to dispel any notions he had of her needing his protection. 

"Don't be ridiculous – Oliver, she's staying with us. She can help us." Sara hissed at him, storming forward to go toe to toe with him as she stared him down angrily. " _What_ has gotten into you?" She growled in an undertone as he put the heels of his hands to his eyes and sighed.

"I'm sorry. I just… I've got a lot on my plate. Diggle says we need to relocate. We've got Felicity's friends in Central City saying they need our help and that they might have a cure. And I don't know how to protect everyone here _and_ in Central City…. I-… I don't know what to do, Sara." He exhaled roughly, looking at her pleadingly.

"Oliver you can't be in two places at once and you can't stretch yourself this thin. Nyssa, me, Roy, Diggle? We can help. _If you let us_." Sara breathed, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He looked at her meekly and nodded, then slowly shifted his gaze to Nyssa who stood watching the exchange stiffly from a few feet off. Approaching her, Oliver extended his hand in a sign of peace. Grudgingly Nyssa lifted her hand to his and shook it.

"Truce?"He asked quietly and Nyssa quirked a brow at him.

"Very well. For Sara's sake." Nyssa agreed.

"Okay, great, glad we're all friends now. Now can you please elaborate on this whole 'cure' thing?" Sara asked urgently and Oliver swallowed thickly.

"Felicity has friends at STAR Labs. They sent a message saying they need her help and my help for a possible cure. But Diggle said that we've got to relocate the group away from the mansion before I leave with Felicity because it's not safe enough here." Oliver explained and Nyssa snorted.

"I should think so; Sara and I have dispatched of no less than seven of those rotting bodies since I arrived." Nyssa commented. Oliver's gaze swung to Sara in horror and the blonde ducked her head but nodded in confirmation, passing her bo staff from one hand to the next nervously.

"We were fine, don't worry." Sara dismissed. "So this cure – what do they need us to do?"

"Not us – Felicity and I. That's it. I'm not risking everyone on a six hundred mile campaign." Oliver stated firmly and Sara's eyes narrowed.

"So you want to split the group up, that's it? Take Felicity and hope that you don't get into a bind along the way? That's ridiculous. You're going to get yourselves killed."

"Well bringing all of us could get us all killed. At least this way I'm minimizing the risk to you and your family. To Diggle and Lyla and their daughter." He reminded, staring at her with cold, unflinching eyes. "This is the best way; I leave you all behind. You have Nyssa, that's even more help to protect you all."

"If you intend to go alone, I would advise against it; the world beyond your city is not as it once was, Oliver Queen." Nyssa warned not so cryptically and Oliver glared at her.

"You made it."

"I survived because I was trained by the Demon's Head himself; can you and your Felicity claim the same?" Nyssa asked and he knew she wasn't trying to boast but damn if it didn't feel like it.

"I can handle it." Oliver growled between gritted teeth and Nyssa chuckled lowly.

"Spoken like a true fool."

Oliver's fingers curled into fists and he felt a numbing rage steal over him. What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to save them all? He couldn't save the city that he loved _and_ save the people that he loved. It was protect his family or find the cure. He couldn't have both.

"Enough." Sara intervened, stepping between Oliver and Nyssa and turning her eyes to the emerald archer himself. "For now, let's worry about finding someplace safe. Diggle is right. The mansion won't be safe for long. And something… Something's coming, Ollie. I can feel it. So let's find a place where we can be safe. All of us. We'll deal with the rest later." Sara advised and Oliver swallowed and nodded.

"That's what the others said."

"Well I'm glad we're in agreement." Sara muttered, crossing her arms before her as she fixed him with a pointed stare.

"If you are seeking a safe refuge, I may know of a place." Nyssa stated simply, drawing both Oliver and Sara's attention. Nyssa stared at Sara for a moment and the blonde's face registered with shock and then a warm smile spread across her face.

"You're sure?" She asked and Nyssa nodded, the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"I see no reason why two of the Leagues finest Assassins should deny themselves a safe domicile." Nyssa commented and Sara nodded, glowing happily.

"I take it you two both know of this magic safe place?" Oliver asked haggardly and Sara nodded enthusiastically.

"The League… they have safehouses all around the world. There's one on the outskirts of Starling. It's got plenty of space and supplies and it would be easy to defend – or flee from." Sara explained as Oliver listened intently.

"And how do you know this? A lot has changed, Sara. I don't want to go in there and give those people false hope when we don't know what kind of state this safehouse is in." Oliver reminded her and Sara nodded, biting her lip.

"I stayed there. When I first came back. It was fine then." She acknowledged and Nyssa nodded.

"I utilized it as well, as I searched for Sara. It is still intact and it would easily accommodate your group." Nyssa assured Oliver and he shifted his weight from foot to foot uneasily. Moving their friends and family to a known League of Assassins safehouse seemed intrinsically wrong. And dangerous. But if both Sara and Nyssa insisted that it was safe, he was hard pressed to turn down the offer. If he refused, then who knew how many days or weeks of searching it would take to find an adequate safe haven to relocate everyone to. And every day spent searching here would be another day for something to go wrong in Central City, thereby risking the lives of the people who claimed to have a cure.

"Fine. I'll go and investigate it, make sure it's still safe. If it is, we can move everyone to it." He allowed and Sara shook her head sternly at him.

"You can't go alone, Oliver. When are you going to get that through your head?"

"Well I can't leave all of you unprotected! What do you want me to do, Sara?"

"Take Nyssa with you. She's been there before, she'll know the way." Sara offered, prompting the dark haired woman at her side to gape at her in surprise. Lifting a hand to silence Nyssa's wordless objections, Sara plunged on. "That will leave plenty of people behind to keep the group safe without having you go risking your own neck solo." Sara pointed out and Oliver clenched his jaw, hating that she was right.

But for all that Sara trusted Nyssa, Oliver didn't. And if he was going to go toe to toe with the undead, he wanted someone he trusted at his back – not someone would sooner plunge a knife in it.

"I'll take Roy with us too." Oliver stated with certainty, glancing at Nyssa and then back to Sara. "It'll give him a little more experience fighting the infected without putting him in harm's way. Besides, he'll be glad to feel like he's helping." Oliver explained lamely, well aware that both Nyssa and Sara could see through his excuses and knew that the real reason he wanted Roy was so someone other than Nyssa would have his back.

"Fine. Take Roy. Diggle, my dad, and I can hold down the fort." Sara sighed, shaking her head at her friend. "Take the radios so we can stay in contact though." She warned and Oliver ducked his head obligingly. "And be careful – you got shot, Ollie. You should be resting. Don't push yourself too far, too fast." She warned gently, stepping forward to put a hand on his forearm. "If not for your sake, then for Felicity's – be careful." She warned, patting his arm before she began the walk back to the house, Nyssa falling into step alongside her and giving Oliver an indifferent stare as she swept past, leaving him on his own once more.

Alone amongst the trees once more, Oliver reached for the knife in his boot and in a fit of rage, he threw it with all his might, breathing raggedly as it flew from his hand and embedded itself in a nearby tree trunk.

He had to protect them all. Whatever the personal cost. He had to. He just had no idea how best to accomplish that.


	16. Chapter 16

It was nearly an hour later when Felicity pushed away from the computer station, rubbing her eyes as she went to fetch some food from the kitchen. Having sent back an encrypted message to STAR Labs, the only thing they could do was wait – and pray.

Or in Felicity's case, force feed a former vigilante.

The necessary goods obtained, she marched herself outside, his Arrow jacket zipped up to her throat to protect against the wind, a thermos of coffee in one hand and a sandwich wrapped in aluminum foil in the other. It seemed absurd, to be doing such menial things as making food and coffee during times like these but really, if they had the ability to retain some sense of normalcy, she wasn't going to complain about it. Especially not when she had Oliver to think about. If he was going to insist on standing guard, she was going to insist on keeping him nourished. And keeping him company.

She was wandering, a little lost along the southern perimeter when he found her, his gravelly voice ringing out from behind her.

"You should be inside, Felicity; what if you ran into some of the infected? You don't even have a weapon." He criticized as she turned to face him and brandished the thermos.

"I dunno, I think this could pack a punch." She commented as she turned the heavy metal over in her palm approvingly and he gave her a look that said he was plainly _not_ amused.

"Your safety isn't a joke, Felicity." He scrutinized as he walked to join her, a hand going to her shoulder as he came to stare at her. "Go back inside. I will come see you when I'm done patrolling."

"No." She refused, shaking her head at him as she met his gaze, her brows furrowed in displeasure. "If you stay, I stay. You are _not_ alone, Oliver. You need to stop acting like you are." She murmured, pressing the sandwich into one of his hands. She then set to work unscrewing the top of the thermos and poured him a steaming cup of coffee, which she then placed in his other hand.

"You are going to hawk me about this, until I give in, aren't you?" He asked, smiling despite his frustration. In answer, she smiled back and nodded vigorously.

"I'm a hawker." She confirmed and he chortled before lifting the coffee to his lips as he drank deeply. Sighing, he handed her the empty cup and she refilled it as he reclined against a tree and began to eat under her supervision. She was silent as he did so, watching him fondly in between doing cursory scans of the area around him. When he had finished his food and another two cups of coffee she was satisfied and capped the thermos, assured that in the immediate future at least, he would not go hungry or thirsty.

"So can we talk about it now?" She inquired seriously and he looked at her, frowning.

"Talk about what, exactly?"

"Whatever it is that has you so upset about leaving the mansion. I know it's not Central City – at least not entirely." She amended, coming to stand alongside him as they began to walk the grounds together, Oliver tense and alert, Felicity relaxed and calm.

"I don't-" he began, only for her to make a quiet sound of dissent as she shook her head.

"You don't need to tell me, Oliver, but don't lie to me. I know there's something else. And I'm pretty sure I know what that something else is. But if you aren't ready to tell me, then we don't have to talk about it. But just… know that I’m here." She offered softly, threading her hands together before her as she came to a stop, regarding him tenderly. "I should go back to the house." She offered and in answer he stepped forward, his eyes bright.

"No. Don't… don't go." He pleaded. "You're right… There is another reason why I don't want to go." He confessed, shifting uneasily as he tried to put his emotions into words – not exactly Oliver Queen's forte, insofar as Felicity had seen.

"If we leave the mansion… I don't know how… I just- I still have hope that Thea…" He trailed off, his frustration mounting as he tried and failed to find the words to explain the fear that kept his stomach churning, the guilt that kept him up at night.

"You're afraid that if we leave, Thea won't be able to find you. You think she'll come here looking for you and if you aren't here, you don't know how you'll ever find each other?" Felicity supplied softly and his eyes flew open wide as he took her in, blonde curls and soft eyes aglow with understanding.

"Yeah." He responded gruffly with more than a little disbelief. It should have been disconcerting, how well Felicity could read him. But then again, she'd always seen through his lies… probably because he never enjoyed lying to her and when he did, his lies were halfhearted, at best.

"I understand that." Felicity acknowledged, ducking her head as she slipped her arm gently through his as they kept walking along the Queen family grounds. "But there are other ways, Oliver. We can leave messages for her everywhere we go. Messages that will tell her how to find you." Felicity encouraged him, lifting a hand to cup his cheek gently, shivering as his eyes bore into hers with an intensity that turned her knees to pudding.

"If she's out there, we'll find her. If Caitlin and Cisco's cure works, the city will build itself back up quickly. You'd be able to find her easily." She smiled and despite her certainty, Oliver's face was painted in doubt as he leaned his cheek into her warm touch.

"And if the cure fails?"

"We'll still have all the technology of STAR Labs at our disposal; I'm sure we could find a way to locate her." Felicity breathed, hoping that she wasn't overstepping her bounds in making such a claim, even if it was one she truly believed.

"But Oliver," Felicity reminded gently, prompting his half shut eyes to open and seek her gaze, locking onto her own eyes with a focus that was unparalleled, "-even if we don't find her right away, you can't give up. We have to keep moving forward. And I promise you that I won't rest until we've found her again." She assured him and he exhaled raggedly, holding back the tears he hadn't realized had been welling in his chest.

"Promise me." Felicity whispered and he complied swiftly, nodding in the strained, dappled sunlight that fell on them through the trees.

"I promise. I'll keep fighting." He swore solemnly and she nodded, giving him a shy smile of encouragement.

"Good. Just um, do me a favor and don't fight with Nyssa? I really want you to come back alive from this little field trip of yours and I don't think we should poke the angry, sword-toting assassin right before you go on a mission together. The last thing I need is her shoving you into a herd of the infected, alright?" Felicity warned, eliciting a chuckle from Oliver.

"I'll do my best." He smiled at her, though it was short lived as his expression slowly became serious again as he studied her. "Your turn." He commented and she cocked her head at him in confusion.

"My turn for what?"

"Felicity, I know you. And I know when something's bothering you. And something is bothering you. And I'm pretty sure I know what it is."

"It's that obvious, huh?" She asked softly and he shrugged.

"I don't know if it's obvious to everyone, or if it's just because I know you well enough to know when you're upset. Either way, I'm here, if you want to talk about it." He offered and she regarded him quietly while she fiddled with the thermos.

"I just… We slept together. That happened. And we haven't talked about it. And I don't know what we are or what we're doing and I realize that it's absurd to have these concerns in the middle of what is arguably the largest crisis we've ever faced but you're… _you_. You're-"

"-in love with you." He finished for her as he interrupted, his voice level and steady as he moved closer to her, laying one of his hands across hers as he gently eased the thermos from her hands and set it aside. "I love you, Felicity. And I want to be with you. I want to spend my nights with you."

"You already spend your nights with me." She reminded him, dazed by his confession, and he chuckled.

"I want to spend all my nights like last night. With you. _That way_." He leaned into her, his lips just above her ear as she shivered at his words.

"So we're doing this. We're really doing this." She repeated, her nervous rambling beginning to kick into high gear because Oliver had said he loved her. And he wanted to spend his nights with her. And if that wasn't something straight out of her fantasies, she didn't know what was.

Not that she fantasized about this. Ever.

"Only if you want to." He responded and she bobbed her head up and down like some ridiculous bobblehead doll but um _yes_ she definitely wanted to do this. Very much so. More than she wanted to work on a 14 nm Exynos system.

Aka a lot. Aka she was all in. Aka yes.

"Definitely." She answered him and he smiled warmly before he pressed a relieved kiss to her lips, his posture loosening up considerably as he offered her his arm and she accepted it graciously. Without further ado, he began to guide them back to the house.

"Are you done patrolling?" she inquired and he glanced around, then nodded.

"I think it's time that Nyssa, Roy, and I head out there. The sooner we leave and check out this safe house, the sooner I can come back. To you." He stated pointedly, stopping her as they came into view of the mansion. "And the sooner we can go to STAR Labs." He confirmed for her. Hesitating for a moment, he looked at her, concern brimming in his eyes.

"Be safe… while I'm gone?" He asked her, his voice sounding almost childlike as he pleaded with her.

"Of course." She answered him right away, hurrying to reassure him. "I'm not the vigilante in this relationship, as you'll recall." She added lightly but his face was stony.

"I don't like… The last time I left you alone and promised to come back for you-"

"-you still came back for me. And found me. _Eventually_." She allowed, putting a hand on his forearm. "I promise I will be here. With the others. Safe." She vowed and he nodded, his eyes downcast.

"And then, after I'm back, no more splitting up?" It was a quiet question and his voice was strained as he asked it; clearly he wanted to demand it but knew her better than to make demands of her. "Please?"

"No more splitting up after this." She agreed with a faint nod as she leaned into him and zipped his leather jacket up the remaining inch or two of the zipper track, patting his chest tenderly once she'd finished. "Now go.  Get to vigilante-ing." She teased gently, smiling at him despite the fear clawing at her chest at the notion of him venturing out into the unknown. At least he would have Roy and Nyssa for backup; between the three of them, she almost felt bad for whoever they crossed paths with, living or dead.

They shared a brief but fierce kiss, breaking apart long enough to press their foreheads against each other as they stood, breathing in each other's air before he gave her hands a firm squeeze. Taking his meaning, she pulled away from him, denying her tears as she strode up the stairs of the mansion and away from him, refusing to look back. Despite herself, she flexed her fingers in the same nervous manner she'd seen Oliver do on more than one occasion. As she reentered the mansion and saw Roy rifling through a backpack, she passed a hand over her face and took a deep, steadying breath.

"Oliver's outside. I think he's waiting for you two." She informed him, doing her best to keep any sour note out of her voice as she recalled his earlier words about her agreeing with Oliver only because they were sleeping together. To his credit, Roy seemed sheepish as he straightened up and turned to look at her, frowning once he caught sight of her.

"He's not suiting up?" He queried and Felicity looked down at herself dumbly, having forgotten for a moment that she was in Oliver's green jacket.

"He's umm… He's got one of his motorcycle jackets on. He's ready though, I think." She explained away Roy's concerns as Nyssa and Sara entered into the room, both looking tense.

"Are we departing now?" Nyssa inquired in a high voice and Felicity nodded, still refraining from turning to look at Oliver through the mansion windows.

"Oliver's waiting outside." Felicity answered and the assassin (or was it assassiness?) turned to share a passionate kiss with Sara. The two exchanged words in a language Felicity didn't recognize, though she caught the words _Ta-er al-Safar,_ which she recognized as Sara's name in the League of Assassins. A few more whispered words and Nyssa turned on her heel to stride out of the mansion, Roy trailing along after her with a hurried request that they pass along his goodbyes to Sin.

Alone with Sara, Felicity moved towards the blonde, biting her lower lip to hold back the tears that her fear seemed to have summoned. After what felt like a lifetime, Sara finally spoke.

"They're gone; you can look now." Sara assured her and Felicity let go of the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding so she could turn around and survey the grounds where only a short while ago Oliver had once more professed his love for her.

"It never gets any easier, does it?"

Sara paused and looked at Felicity, her head cocked to the side inquiringly.

"What's that?"

"Watching the person that you love go, knowing that they're going somewhere dangerous… That they may never come back." Felicity expounded, turning to stare at Sara, desperately hoping the Canary had something in the way of insights to offer.

"No… It doesn't." Sara answered hollowly, sharing a knowing look with Felicity. And it wasn't what she wanted to hear, but somehow the truth was better than the empty words of comfort Sara could have offered her.

"How do you deal with it?" Felicity asked softly and Sara shrugged, spinning the bo staff in her hands that Felicity hadn't realized she had with her.

"I usually find someone to beat the hell out of… And I hit them until I feel better." Sara said with a roll of her shoulders and a flicker of a smile as she marched out to take over patrols, leaving Felicity alone in the entryway.

"Right so…maybe like a metaphorical keyboard smash for me?" Felicity said aloud to the empty room, turning on her heel and glancing around. "And I'm talking to no one… And I'm still doing it. Awesome." She sighed, shaking her head before she departed up the stairs to meet up with Lyla and discuss the communication setup.

\-----

The black sedan's engine roared beneath Oliver's lead foot as he guided the four door vehicle down the road that led away from the Queen family's former mansion and to the city. Oliver's eyes were fixed on the road while Roy stared intently at a piece of paper which Oliver knew was the last letter Thea had sent before the outbreak. In the back seat, Nyssa sat serenely running the blade of her sword across a stone in long, slow strokes that rasped loudly in the quiet of the car.

Thus occupied, the trio did not notice the slowly advancing line of shadows within the trees, stumbling slowly but surely in the direction of the mansion and the loved ones they had left behind in it. So, as the car drove over a rise in the road and out of view of the Queen family home, the trio of well trained defenders were unaware of the horde of Vertigo victims staggering step by broken step nearer to the mansion. Hidden by the trees that ringed the Queen grounds, they were nigh invisible to anyone watching from the mansion itself. But with each passing moment, the infected were drawing nearer, bringing the stench of death and decay with them.


	17. Chapter 17

As it turned out, keyboard smashing to cope with her emotions was not going to be an option for Felicity because they were in the middle of a Lyla imposed power blackout to conserve their limited resources. And though Felicity was itching to vent her anxiety _somehow_ , she didn't really think typing on a keyboard that wasn't hooked up to a powered on computer would really do the trick.

She wanted, _needed_ to be useful. To do _something_. And the one thing she felt like she actually could do was currently not an option. And with Oliver gone (gone all of twenty minutes and already she missed him), she felt more than a little anxious, a little unsettled.

Maybe Sara was right. Maybe she really did need to hit something. Not like, a _living_ something but like… maybe she could kick a dirt clod. Or hit the surface of a body of water, the way she'd seen Oliver train Roy.

Either way, it had to be better than sitting around in the mansion and waiting with the others. Not that she had a problem with the others – she didn't – but she just really couldn't handle sitting around right now. So, Felicity excused herself and headed for the back doors of the mansion. As she reached the doors, she heard a noise behind her and turned to find Diggle, a map of the city in his hands.

"You going out there?" He queried protectively and she nodded in answer.

"I can't just sit here. I feel like my head's going to explode. I was going to go keep Sara company." She explained and Digg nodded slowly, staring out the windows at the grounds just beyond the mansion.

"You have a weapon?" Diggle asked and Felicity's fingers went to her pants pocket, where the knife Oliver had given her earlier was now stored. Nodding, she pulled out the blade and lifted it up for Digg to inspect, which he did promptly. Giving a nod of approval, he glanced outside once more, then back to Felicity. "Be careful. And if you don't find Sara right away, come back."He stated firmly and she nodded, aware that Diggle was already on edge and probably didn't need to add 'worrying about Felicity wandering the grounds' to his list of frets.

"I'll be careful. Scout's honor." She swore, holding up three fingers in the Boy Scout oath hand signal.

"You were never a boy scout, Felicity." Diggle commented without humor and Felicity grinned sheepishly.

"You get the idea. I promise, I'll be careful." She assured, stepping forward to give him a tight, quick hug before she slipped outside. Taking a deep breath, Felicity steadied herself and then marched down the stairs and away from the mansion to search for the leather clad blonde.

She'd been walking for five minutes or so when she heard a sound coming from her left. Turning, her eyes scanned the trees, searching for Sara and finding no sign of her. But a snap of twigs made her whip her head to the side as a sense of unease began to trickle down her spine. Suddenly on edge, Felicity ducked behind a tree and peered out at the trees nearby, waiting to see who (or what) had made the noise. After several moments with no signs of life, Felicity had just begun to relax, telling herself she was too on edge when it happened. Another soft sound of feet moving through the underbrush.

And then she saw them.

Felicity's body tensed as her blue eyes widened with horror at the sight of one of the infected shuffling through the undergrowth. Swallowing nervously, Felicity's fingers traced down to her pocket and touched upon the handle of the knife. Just as she was about to pull it free though, another rustling announced more movement and as she watched, more of the infected followed after the first.

Where initially there had been but one, now she watched as the number grew. Four. Nine. Thirteen. She lost count as they seemed to flood out from the forest. Dozens upon dozens of them, bloodied, mangled, rotting corpses all moving with single minded purpose in the direction of the mansion.

_No_.

Lyla, the baby. Sin. Captain Lance. Laurel. _John_. They were all in there. Unaware. Unprepared. _Unsafe_.

Felicity felt frozen in place with fear, keenly aware that only sheer dumb luck had prevented the infected from finding her so far. That luck would run out eventually. She needed to go, to run, to warn the others. _You can do this. Just don't stop running._ She told herself, taking a deep swallow of air before she began to run for the mansion, her arms pistoning as she tried to gain speed. _I should spend more time on the elliptical_ , she chastised herself. And really, if they all made it out of this mess alive, she would. She swore right then and there that if the day ever came when working out at the gym was a real thing again, she would up her cardio from forty minutes to a full sixty. _Just please let us get out of this unscathed,_ she prayed as she ran. Lifting her hands to cup her mouth, she inhaled deeply and was about to scream to her friends when a solid body flung itself at her, sending Felicity careening into the overgrown hedges that lined the lawns of the Queen mansion.

Struggling against the body, Felicity tried to scramble away, terrified , as strong arms, _too strong_ , gripped at her, pinning her down as hot breath tickled her neck.

"Don't make a sound."

Despite herself, Felicity's body went limp with momentary relief at the knowledge that she hadn't been bowled over by one of the infected but rather, Sara. Obeying the blonde, Felicity kept her mouth shut as the infected passed by them mere feet away on the other side of the hedges. They could see their feet moving through the vegetation – some of them barefoot, their soles mud caked and raw, others wearing worn tennis shoes. There was even a snapped pair of heels on one pair of feet that went limping by and Felicity was keenly aware of how close they were.

One wrong move, one sound, and the hundred or more infected bearing down on the house would swing directly toward her and Sara. But they couldn't just sit idly by; they needed to let their friends know. Felicity's mind went to Lyla and the baby who had been crying when Felicity left only minutes ago. Was she still crying? If she was, it would be like a dinner bell ringing for the Vertigo victims. The thought alone made Felicity want to wretch.

And then there was Captain Lance, still recovering from his time on the run from the infected with Felicity. Sin, who had only just come into the fold and was still learning what it was like to have people around that cared about her. John and Lyla couldn't protect them all from the oncoming herd and she and Sara were utterly useless from here.

"We have to warn them!" Felicity whispered, only for Sara's weight to shift and press her to the ground more firmly, causing her to exhale roughly.

"We wouldn't make it ten feet."

"Then let me bait them away so you can warn the others!" Felicity begged and Sara rolled off of her, leaving Felicity free to pull herself into a crouch. Sara was blinking at her in shock, her brows furrowed in confusion.

"You'd do that?"

She'd promised Oliver she'd be safe. But if the choices were him coming back to a slaughter, or coming back to one loss, Felicity had to opt for the path of least loss. Even if the one loss was her own life.

"Yes. Just get to the others." Felicity begged and Sara stared hard at her for a moment before she inhaled slowly.

"When I tell you to, make a run for the front entry; it'll take longer to reach but you'll never make it if you try to go in through the veranda." Sara advised hurriedly as she plucked knives from her boots.

"W-What are you talking about? I said I would distract them!" Felicity stammered as Sara readied herself to fight and the Canary looked at her, a soft smile on her face.

"You're still cute, Felicity." She murmured gently, patting Felicity's shoulder. "But that's why you wouldn't last five seconds against them. I can buy you enough time to warn the others." Sara explained, turning her gaze to peer through the hedges at the shuffling feet as she spoke again in a hurried undertone. "Tell Diggle that they're coming from the east and southeast. Get in a car and drive. Don't wait for me." Sara stated explicitly. "No matter what Laurel and my dad say. Just get them to safety. Tell them I'll meet you at the rendezvous point." Sara rushed.

"Where's the rendezvous point?" Felicity inquired and Sara shook her head.

"There isn't one."

With that, the two exchanged a long look and Felicity felt her heart leap into her throat.

"Sara-" she objected, but the other woman only shook her head.

"Go, Felicity." Sara directed, pushing her firmly to her feet. "NOW!"

Simultaneously, Sara jumped through the hedges with a scream of anger unlike anything Felicity had ever heard. Feeling drunk with fear, Felicity tottered toward the mansion, her self preservation instincts screaming at her that this was utter lunacy.

Bolting for the mansion, Felicity could hear the groans of the infected as her loud breathing and even louder running drew their attention as she fled. More than once, an infected person stumbled into her path and caused her to change course at the last moment. She was nearly clear of the trees when an infected man came out from behind one trunk, arms outstretched for her and she swerved to the right, clipping his arm and stumbling on an exposed tree root.

Felicity flew through the air for a brief moment before she slammed into the ground, her already injured shoulder jarring painfully. And _son of an ethernet port._ If she hadn't popped another stitch, it would be a miracle. _Get up, Smoak_! She yelled at herself mentally, scrambling slowly to her feet.

_Too slowly_.

A strong hand seized upon her ankle and she shrieked softly as she turned to see that she hadn't tripped on a tree root, but rather, a _very_ freshly turned Vertigo victim. His abdomen had been eaten away, and with a shiver, Felicity averted her eyes from the mangled scraps of flesh still dangling to his spine, to which only a few shreds of muscle and sinew kept his mutilated legs hanging on.

_Oh frack_. She was going to be sick. She was going to die puking her guts out. _No_!

Kicking at his face and hand, Felicity managed to loosen his grip enough to wrench her ankle free and with a lurch, she got to her feet and blindly stumbled through the trees and on to her objective – the mansion entryway. Even as she approached the stairs, she could see dozens of the infected leaving the trees and, at the sight of her, swerving towards the mansion.

Taking the steps two at a time, Felicity threw open an entry door and dragged it shut behind her, her hands shaking violently as she did the locks and the deadbolt. Pausing long enough to draw a deep breath, Felicity yelled to them.

"JOHN!" She shouted, stumbling into the mansion and searching desperately for some sight of them, any of them. "LAUREL? LYLA!" Where were they? Now was so not the time to explore the multitude of rooms in the Queen family mansion. "CAPTAIN LANCE? SIN?" Her heart was hammering, each second feeling like a lifetime. "YOU GUYS! THERE'S A HERD!" She warned, gasping as she rushed for the stairs that would lead her to John and Lyla's room. From the command center she heard a noise though, and she changed her course instantly.

"EVERYONE!" She shouted again, clutching her wounded shoulder painfully. _Oh yeah, definitely popped stitches. Again. Had to be._ "WE NEED TO LEAVE NOW!"

"Miss Smoak?"

Captain Lance looked at her like she was a horror freak show side stage act, disturbing and yet, something from which you couldn't avert your eyes. He was standing half in the doorway of the room that housed the command center and as Felicity drew nearer, she could hear the voices of the others inside.

"We have to get out of here, they're everywhere!" Felicity warned, gesturing to the outside. "We can't fight them, we have to go _now_!"

"Is that Felicity? Did you tell her the good ne-" John stopped dead in his tracks as he paused in the doorway, looking her over. She was certain that her frantic appearance, haggard breathing, and wild eyes were reassuring in the extreme.

"John we have to leave, the infected are everywhere, it's a whole herd of them." She gasped, her whole body shaking. "NOW!"

A flurry of motion followed as John dove back into the room, reemerging with his gun in hand. Captain Lance drew his piece too and the two men began to bark orders.

"Laurel! Get everything out of the kitchen. Sin – grab the maps." John directed, rushing down the hall.

"We don't have time! We need to get in a car!" Felicity overruled, desperation in her voice as she looked to John, praying he trusted her. With a nod, he pointed to Lance.

"Get them out of here!"

"What about you?" Felicity queried as he ran down the hall.

"I'm not going anywhere without my girls." John growled, making a beeline for the room where she assumed Lyla and the baby were.

She was about to go after him to help him and Lyla with the baby when a strong hand yanked her by the back of her jacket and hauled her toward the stairs. With a yelp, she tumbled along behind Captain Lance, who was marching her dutifully down the stairs.

"Laurel! Let's go!" He directed, putting a gentle hand to his daughter's back to herd her down the stairs in front of him, pausing long enough to stare Felicity in the eyes. "Where is Sara?"

Oh. Oh this was not going to be easy. Lying was so not her forte and she did not do well under pressure. That was when the babbling started.

"So don't lie to me." Lance breathed  through his teeth and Felicity winced as she realized that she'd apparently been thinking out loud. _Frack and a half._

"I don't know. She said she'd meet us at the rendezvous point."

"Yeah, and let me guess – there is no rendezvous point?" Quentin hazarded a guess and Felicity could only blink at him uncertainly.

"She was going to try and draw them away from the mansion to buy us time." Felicity whispered hoarsely, prompting Laurel to go stock still.

"Sara." Laurel breathed in horror, just as the sound of the glass veranda doors shattering  interrupted them. From their vantage point on the stairs, the four of them – Felicity, the two Lances, and Sin further down on the staircase – could see as the dead came stumbling into the mansion, a chorus of groans and gasps and rattling breath accompanying them. And in the still intact (for now) windows, the shadows of more hands and more dead bodies were visible, pressing against the house, drawn to the living within.

"Get back, get back, _get back_!" Quentin Lance demanded, physically hauling the girls behind him as he fired off several rounds at the infected nearest them.

"We can't go back, there's no way out!" Sin reminded him urgently, just as Laurel went rushing past the police captain's outstretched hands as she raced down the stairs.

"Laurel!" Quentin Lance screamed, hobbling after her and pausing only to lift his gun, expertly taking out the infected in his daughter's way. Her path thus cleared, Laurel fled in the direction of the garage on the opposite end of the house.

"We'll never make it." Felicity breathed, looking around wildly for a means of escape as the path Laurel had taken was swallowed up by walking corpses that snarled up at the living on the staircase above.

"Like hell we won't." Lance muttered through gritted teeth. As he took aim at the infected swarming in the entryway below, Felicity felt an icy shard of doubt lodge itself in her heart. There were just too many – too many infected, too many hands to claw at them, too many teeth to rip at them. They were too badly outnumbered with too few weapons at their disposal.

"Sin, go find anything that you can use as a weapon. Golf clubs, a fencing sword, a heavy vase, _anything_!" Felicity urged, sending the younger girl rushing back up the stairs as she turned to look at Captain Lance as he fumbled with a fresh magazine of bullets. And in that moment Felicity was impressed by the fact that Quentin Lance's hands were steady.

There were dozens, maybe even hundreds, of life threatening, infected corpses bearing down on them and all she could do was marvel at the fact that Lance's hands were not shaking. Not in the slightest. Her hand went to her hip (shaking, _definitely_ shaking) and Felicity drew out the knife Oliver had given to her to keep. Holding it as she trembled, Felicity glanced Lance's way, watching as he squeezed another few rounds into the swarming mass of the infected. The bodies piling at the bottom of the stairs were slowing them – for now – but already the Vertigo victims were scrambling over the fallen in an effort to get to the living just beyond.

"Cover me!" Felicity called, her voice breaking as the Captain looked at her in disbelief.

"Nuh-uh! NO WAY!" He bellowed, reaching a hand for her, only for Felicity to pull away. "SMOAK! Get back here!" He demanded as Felicity hustled down the stairs, her knife held aloft before her.

_What am I doing? I'm not Sara! I can't take on a billion of the infected!!!_ Her mind reminded her shrilly as she hesitated a few steps from the infected. But they were out of options and Felicity was _not_ going to stand idly by as the dead came swarming up the stairs to gobble up her and her friends. As far as deaths went, she was pretty sure getting eaten alive ranked as one of the worst ways to go. Not that she was an expert. However, such thoughts were driven from her mind as one of the dead reached a grasping hand her way. Felicity batted it away and drove the knife home, the blade skidding off the woman's nose and slipping deep through her eye socket with a sickening squish that made Felicity's stomach churn. _Violently_.

She was tugging the knife free when she felt a sudden, sharp pressure on her arm. Yelping, she stumbled, trying to turn away only to find an infected teenager had its teeth sunk deep just below her elbow. The only thing standing between her and the infection that the teen's teeth promised was the thick leather of Oliver's jacket.

_I'm never taking this thing off. Ever._ Felicity thought, terror making her move jerkily as she tried to free herself with minimal success. Panic rose within her and she felt her free hand curl into a fist as she bludgeoned him in the face, knocking his mouth free of her arm long enough to jam the knife just above his ear, the impact jarring her entire arm painfully. The knife caught in the bones of his skull and even as she tried to tug it free, she felt rather than saw something coming.

"Felicity!" Diggle's voice boomed from the hallway as he came barreling around with Lyla, the baby hidden from view in a baby bjorn that Diggle had strapped to his chest and covered with what looked like a million layers of blankets and duct tape to keep Baby Girl Diggle safe from infected hands and mouths.  "Get back NOW!" He warned and Felicity obeyed without questioning, her knife forgotten as she scrambled up the stairs, accepting an offered hand from Captain Lance and not a moment too soon.

A dull roar rose over the din and as Felicity watched a car exploded into view in a shower of glass, plaster, and wood. The engine roared as the vehicle spun in a wide arc, mowing down a good number of the infected before it veered off into the staircase with a sickening crunch, obliterating the area where Felicity had stood only moments ago.

Coughing in the cloud of dust, the group surged forward towards the bottom of the staircase and the car to find Laurel, wincing behind the wheel, the deflated airbag in her lap. Throwing open the passenger door, Captain Lance rushed to his daughter.

"Laurel! Laurel baby, can you hear me? Are you okay?"

"I'm great." Laurel groaned, wheezing as she gulped in dusty air. "Everybody, get in." She directed as she attempted to restart the vehicle, only for the engine to splutter and cough before it died. "No." She muttered in a panic, attempting again to coax it into life, with equally poor results. "No! No, no no!" She cried, banging her palm on the wheel.

"Too late." Felicity whispered, laying a hand on Captain Lance's forearm. Jerking his head to the side, he swung his focus away from Laurel and followed Felicity's shaking finger as she directed his attention to the infected still spilling into the house, and to those on the ground once more rising – not all of whom had been scathed enough by Laurel's antics to stay down, apparently.

"Laurel, honey. Get out of the car." Captain Lance commanded, motioning for Felicity and Sin to back up, the latter of which was clutching a rather expensive golf club in her hands like her life depended on it. Which, in all honesty, it very well could.

"No! I can make it work! It _has_ to work!" Laurel cried, struggling once more with the ignition as the car whined and failed to start.

Bullets rang out overhead and Felicity spun to find Diggle, bjorn still on his chest, firing off rounds while Lyla stood at his side with two guns in hand, doing their best to slow the stream of oncoming infected.

_If that's not a power couple, I don't know what is_. Felicity thought, only to remind herself that now was _so not the time_.

"FELICITY!" Diggle roared, lifting one hand from the bjorn, where he'd presumably been trying to cradle his daughter, whose wailing now rose above the gunfire. "There's an opening on your right! MOVE!" Diggle commanded as he and Lyla raced down the stairs, Sin falling into step with them. But as Felicity turned to follow, she caught sight of Lance, still with Laurel, who was tugging violently at her seatbelt.

"Laurel, we have to go!" Felicity called and the brunette whirled to look at Felicity through the cracked windshield.

"The seatbelt's stuck!" Laurel cried in answer and as Felicity watched, Captain Lance raced around to the driver's side of the vehicle, yanking open the dented door so he could tug at the seatbelt along with Laurel.

"No, no, _NO!_ " Lance roared, ripping and clawing at the belt with his bare hands. Even when an infected man stumbled at him, the Captain refused to go, instead kicking the man's legs out from under him. Once the man was on the ground, Lance drove his heel into the man's head, over and over and over again until at last he was still.

"Your knife! Give me your knife!" He begged Felicity and the blonde automatically reached for it, only to recall the moments prior to Laurel crashing the car into the mansion. _Her knife, buried deep in the skull of one of the Vertigo victims, wedged and unmoving before she abandoned it to flee up the stairs._

"I-I don't have it." Felicity gasped.

"FELICITY!"

Diggle, Lyla and Sin were on the opposite end of the room now. Diggle had paused, hesitating while he sent Lyla and Sin rushing up ahead. His desperation was evident but as Felicity stood in the middle of the room, torn between staying and risking her life, or fleeing and saving it, she made eye contact with Digg and in his eyes she saw he knew what she would choose even before she did.

Quentin and Laurel Lance were her friends. They'd stuck their necks out for her on more than one occasion. She couldn't leave them in their hour of need without at least attempting to return the favor.

"They're coming from the east and southeast!" Felicity called across the room to Diggle, her heart breaking as his eyes watered in understanding of what her words meant. She wasn't coming. At least, not yet. "Tell Oliver I'm sorry." Felicity begged for forgiveness. "GO!" She screamed, turning her back on Diggle and rushing to the Lances' aid, glancing at Quentin as she passed him. "Hold them off! I'll look for something to help!" Felicity called as she rushed for the back of the car. "Laurel, pop the trunk!"

A soft _thunk_ told Felicity that Laurel had complied and Felicity threw the lid open, eyes scanning the interior before she began to rip at the floor of the trunk space, tugging up the false bottom to reveal the spare tire and the assortment of tools within.

"Here!" Felicity called, fishing a multitool out of the flat tire kit and tossing it to Quentin. With a flash of his hands, the captain grabbed the tool and pried it open to a small knife.

"Watch my back!" He growled as he ducked into the car to saw fiercely at the seatbelt. Felicity nodded and glanced to the trunk, looking desperately for something that could function as a weapon. Her blue eyes landed on the silver glint of a tire iron.

It would have to do.

Running for the nearest of the infected, Felicity swung her weapon wildly, landing several blows with dull thuds that reverberated through her arms and into her core, leaving her feeling shaken and unsteady. But stopping to catch her breath wasn't an option. So Felicity swung with all the might she could muster, busted shoulder be damned. But even as she bludgeoned the Vertigo victims on this side and that, the wall of bodies pressed in closer on her and Captain Lance and Laurel.

_I'm sorry, Oliver_. Felicity thought to herself as she swung blindly with all her might, her arm and shoulder burning with pain and exhaustion. In her mind's eye, she tried to summon the memory of Oliver's face, Oliver smiling, Oliver kissing her, making love to her. If Felicity was going to die, she wanted Oliver to be the last thing she saw before the darkness.

She was still clinging to her memories of their shared night together when she heard a sound that made her blood run cold and her fingers tighten on the tire iron in her hands.


	18. Chapter 18

Laurel's scream was high pitched and sharp as it seemed to reverberate painfully in Felicity's skull, chilling her blood and cutting her to the quick. Spinning on her heels breathlessly, the blonde's eyes landed upon the father-daughter pair and her heart stuttered as she took in the sight.

Three of the infected were clawing at the pair of Lances, bloodied hands raking across fragile, vulnerable bodies, separated only by a scant layer of clothing. One nick from one of those infected fingernails, and either or both Lances would be as good as dead.

"Get away from them!" She screamed, darting forward and slugging the infected pawing at Captain Lance with all her might. The end of the tire iron caught the Vertigo victim by the mouth and in an almost slow motion scene that made Felicity think of a fish on a hook, the man's head followed the trajectory of her swing before the force of it ripped open decaying flesh and sent a spatter of blood and tissue spraying. The other two infected were momentarily distracted by her scream and, seizing the opportunity, Captain Lance threw one towards the car and brought the door slamming closed on the woman's head once, then twice, the third time eliciting a loud _splat_ as the woman's head was crushed by the force.

The final infected, Lance kicked in the chest and sent tumbling backward, offering an opportunity for the police captain to saw the remaining bit of seatbelt off of his daughter.

"Move, move, move, move, _move_!" He directed, tugging Laurel out of the vehicle and directing her towards the stairs. Felicity followed with uneven strides, adrenaline temporarily overruling the exhaustion and pain. Together, the trio sprinted up the stairs, hesitating only for a moment on the staircase.

"That way." Laurel pointed to the right and without questioning her, her father shoved both women before him to safety, intent on protecting their backs. They raced down the long hallways of the beleaguered mansion until they reached a room at the end of the hall that Laurel seemed to know and the brunette threw the door open wide to admit them. Tumbling inside with little regard for their surroundings, the door had barely closed before Quentin Lance was attempting to barricade it, taking a quick inventory before he began to shove a dresser across the floor to blockade the door.

Felicity was doubled over trying to catch her breath, her hand pressed against her bad shoulder to try and keep the pain at bay (newsflash: life without pain meds? Totally _not_ her speed). Still gasping, she glanced at her companions nervously.

"Are you both okay?"

Laurel was shaking from head to toe and was positively pallid but nodded, still trembling from as she hugged herself following the close encounter. Turning her focus to Quentin Lance at the door, Felicity waited for his response, only to watch as he winced faintly, averting his eyes from her questioning gaze.

"C-Captain Lance?" Felicity asked nervously, watching as he straightened and passed a hand over his face. A hand that only now, now that they were safe (albeit temporarily) had begun to shake.

"Is there a bathroom in this place?" He asked hoarsely, ignoring Felicity as he looked to his daughter, who was eyeing him uneasily.

"Y-Yeah. Through that door." She pointed to her right and her father nodded, giving his daughter a tight smile before he took his gun out and counted his remaining rounds with fingers that were full blown shaking now.

"I want you to tie the bedsheets together. Tie 'em good and tight, you hear? Anchor them to something heavy, the bed will work but you'll have to move it closer to the window. When the ground is clear, you can climb down and make a run for the garage. Get another car. Find Sara. And then get the hell out of here." He explained rapidly and Laurel frowned at him, a look of confusion and denial on her face.

"Daddy why are you telling us all this?" She asked, moving closer to her father, only for Quentin Lance to stumble backwards away from her, one hand raised before himself to stop Laurel's hasty approach.

"Laurel, don't come near me!" He warned, shaking his head as he lifted his other hand and pulled back the sleeve of his police jacket. Just above his wrist was a crimson half circle, the tiny grooves from where the infected person's teeth had ripped into his flesh visible even from afar. Felicity felt the breath rush out of her body and she watched as Laurel's eye grew bright with tears. Laurel shook her head, her denial clashing with her horror as she moved closer despite her father's protests, fingers touching lightly at his wrist.

"I'm dying, Laurel." He stated firmly and Felicity once more felt like she was intruding on an intensely private moment as the two squared off with each other, Quentin seeming certain in his convictions and Laurel seeming unsteady as she grasped at straws.

"Daddy, no."Laurel  pleaded, shaking her head as she tried to reach a hand towards her father, who shrank away instantly. "No, you can't." Laurel shook her head, refusing to accept her father's fate.

"Laurel,-"

"No! No, I won't. I can't lose you. Sara needs you. _I_ need you." Laurel argued, tears spilling over her cheeks as she strode forward despite his protests and pulled back his sleeve to stare at the angry teeth marks still bleeding at his wrist. "Maybe you won't… Maybe you're immune." Laurel whispered pleadingly, only for her father to shake his head.

"We both know that's not how this works, Laurel."

"Why not? You don't know that!" Laurel cried, sinking to her knees at her father's feet, prompting him to kneel as well, sweeping his daughter into a warm hug.

"I can already feel it happening."  Quentin Lance whispered, prompting fresh sobs from Laurel as the pair clutched each other tightly. Running his hands through Laurel's hair, Quentin made a soothing noise and cradled his daughter's frame. "You have to take care of them. All of them. But especially Sara. She's going to need you so she doesn't fall headlong back into that darkness she's been fighting." He explained stoically. Felicity turned away then to give the two some privacy, catching only the occasional word as the two Lances murmured their final words to each other through tears and gasped breaths. By the time the Captain came to find Felicity to say goodbye some minutes later, his eyes were already bloodshot and dilated.

"Captain Lance, I…" Felicity trailed, speechless as she stared at her friend for what was likely the last time. The Captain offered her a warm smile and encircled Felicity in a hug, whispering in her ear as they embraced.

"Take care of yourself, Miss Smoak." He murmured haggardly and Felicity felt the barest of smiles.

"I thought we decided you could call me Felicity?" She teased faintly and despite himself, he chuckled.

"And I thought we said you could call me Quentin, not 'Captain Lance'?" He shot back lightly and Felicity ducked her head to wipe away her tears as she nodded faintly. Placing a gentle hand on her arm, she jerked her gaze back up to him, sniffling faintly.

"Take care of yourself." He reiterated with great care, his eyes on hers. " And… take care of my girls. Please." He begged of her and Felicity nodded, keenly aware of how important this was to him.

"I will. I promise." She swore and he nodded, relaxing as this burden was lifted from him. Pausing, he let himself linger before he spoke again.

"And take care of him." He said pointedly and Felicity didn't bother to ask just who Quentin Lance meant by 'him'. It was plain as day. "He needs you, and this city needs him. Keep each other safe." He pleaded, in that one moment suddenly letting his walls drop and his vulnerability shine through as he stared Felicity in the eyes.

"I-I will. You have my word." Felicity bobbed her head and swallowed thickly, trying to keep the tears at bay so she could be strong for Captain Lance. But the tears still came as he backed away from the two women, looking paler than he had only a few minutes ago.

"Time to go." Quentin's voice was strained as he spoke, offering a weak smile to Laurel, who threw herself forward to hug her father one last time. He tolerated the embrace for as long as he could but Felicity could see from his posture that he was wearying and didn't want to be anywhere near his daughter when his strength left him completely.

"Laurel, I have to go." Quentin stated firmly, his voice rasping. Laurel shook her head, sobbing freely now as she tried to hold onto her father tightly.

"No, no. Daddy I can't do this without you." Laurel pleaded, her grip on him tightening as he tried to turn away from her. And in that moment, Felicity could see Laurel's desperation, her desolation, and her heart went out to her.

"Laurel, you can. And you _will_." Quentin demanded as he pulled away from Laurel, heartbroken as he stared at her tear stained face for a moment more . Then, with a deep breath, he stumbled towards the bathroom door and away from his daughter for the last time. Felicity stepped forward, grabbing Laurel up and holding her back with one arm while cradling her head with the other as she held the brunette from following after her father.

"Laurel, there's nothing we can do." Felicity murmured softly, holding Laurel until she ceased struggling and simply cried. Hesitating for a moment, Felicity eased Laurel to the floor and though it pained her to leave her in such distress, Felicity walked away from Laurel and instead went to the bathroom door, opening it timidly to peer inside.

Quentin was leaning heavily on the counter, staring at the sink intently. Following his gaze, Felicity saw why; the handgun he had been carrying sat in the sink now, awaiting a decision by its carrier on whether to use it or not. As she looked at Quentin again, Felicity saw that time was short; already beads of sweat ran down his flushed face and his whole body shook slightly.

"Miss Smoak, get out of here." He directed warningly, but Felicity refused with a soft shake of her head.

"You shouldn't be alone." She whispered and Quentin Lance gave a barking laugh in answer.

"I've been alone before. Put myself in that position when I couldn't give up the drink. If I could bear it then, I can bear it now." He growled out from behind gritted teeth. As she watched, his fingers wrapped around the butt of the gun as he picked the weapon up from the sink and held it aloft. 

His hand shook as he pressed the barrel to his temple, tears streaming freely down his face now as he tried to pull the trigger. But every time the muscles in his shaking hands tensed and his finger twitched, something seemed to stop him at the last moment. This went on for nearly a solid minute and Felicity was keenly aware that the clock was ticking. Soon, Quentin wouldn't have a decision to make – he'd be gone and she'd be in a very small, very confined space with a very infectious Vertigo victim.

At last he couldn't stand it any longer and as she watched, he wrenched the gun away from his face and laid it against his thigh, shaking his head as he wept.

"I can't…. I just… I can't." He trembled, shaking his head and rubbing his face on the sleeve of his coat. Wordlessly, Felicity laid her hand over his atop the gun, her fingers gently curling around the cold metal as she pried his fingers off of it and shared a pointed look with him. His eyes grew round with shock and he began to open his mouth to protest, only for Felicity to shake her head in silent dismissal. Thunderstruck, he regarded her in silence for a moment and then:

"You're a remarkable woman, Miss Smoak." He wheezed and she sucked in a painful breath, willing herself not to cry. She had to be strong for him. He deserved so much more than this – the least she could do was hold it together for him.

"You're an _incredible_ man, Captain Lance." She responded with a quavering voice, prompting him to laugh hoarsely.

"Ah yeah… An alcoholic cop. I'm real impressive." He chortled but she quickly shut down his self criticisms.

"You dedicated your life to this city. You've sacrificed for the people here. You're a hero, Captain Lance." She murmured, sniffling softly as she swallowed away the knot forming in her throat. He looked up at her with eyes glistening with tears.

"I think that title belongs to your boyfriend." He chortled, his laughter fading into a hacking cough, his breath wheezing and rattling so loudly, not unlike the infected corpses below, the ranks of which he was soon to join. She shivered at the thought.

"There's more than one way to be a hero. And most heroes don't wear masks." She answered. For a moment, the ghost of a smile crossed Quentin Lance's face and then his legs seemed to give beneath him and Felicity found herself stepping forward swiftly. She grabbed him under one arm and slowed his descent, easing him against the wash cabinet as he panted for breath, looking eerily pale as he stared up at her.

"I can't let you do it." He protested weakly as he sank down lower against the cabinet, his tremors becoming more violent with each passing moment. "K-Killing someone changes you." The Captain warned with a soft exhale, his breath coming in shorter gasps now. "It leaves a scar that will never go away."

"I've already got a scar.  Two when you count my wisdom teeth, actually. What's one more?" Felicity tried to joke, watching as the Captain rolled his eyes.

"Different kind of scar, Miss Smoak. Not as easy to heal."

"But worth the sacrifice, if it helps someone I care about." Felicity stated solemnly, putting a reassuring hand on Captain Lance's shoulder. The man regarded her for a moment and then relaxed, tension seeping out of him like a balloon animal sprung a sudden leak

"Are you sure?" He asked and Felicity nodded, blinking sharply behind her dark eyeglass frames. The Captain nodded in acknowledgement and raised a trembling hand as if to grab for the gun. Felicity began to wrench it away from him, only for him to raise his hand in surrender with a weak chuckle.

"Just need to turn the safety off, that's all." He wheezed and Felicity relaxed, allowing his unsteady hands to expertly grasp the weapon as he made quick work of the safety, ensuring that she could see what he was doing so that she could replicate the action in the future.

"Safety's off. All you have to do is point and shoot."

"Just like a camera, right?" Felicity offered weakly, unimpressed by her own sad attempt at humor but the Captain smiled and gave a hacking laugh.

"Exactly."

Silence extended between them for a few moments and Quentin Lance placed a hand in Felicity's for comfort, smiling as his body shook harder still. Leaning forward, the blonde pressed a soft kiss to the Captain's forehead, prompting him to smile.

"Easy…. Don't want your boyfriend getting jealous." He warned but Felicity had no humorous answer, no words of comfort in that moment. She could only hold his hand as the man who had saved her life withered before her.

"Tell them… that I l-love them. And that I'm sorry. Take care of them for me." Quentin whispered and then, with great force he added. "Don't wait for the turn; when I drop, shoot."

It happened in a moment; one second he was speaking and the next Quentin Lance's eyes rolled back in his head and he fell to the floor as a seizure overcame him, his body going from pale to brick red in zero to sixty as he thrashed about on the tile while Felicity watched on, tears streaming freely down her face. It wasn't until he went completely still that she felt her heart hammering out of control, the shake in her hands more pronounced as she held the gun aimed right for the Captain's skull.

From outside the bathroom door, Laurel Lance was still sobbing when she heard the loud report of the gun going off. When Felicity Smoak walked back into the room a few minutes later, her face was bloodless and her hands shook as she went to collect Laurel off the floor, saying nothing of what had transpired or of the gun now tucked into the deep pockets of Oliver's green leather jacket.

 _The Jacket_. Her mind flashed back to the infected that had bitten at her arm, the jacket the only thing that had prevented her from sharing Quentin Lance's fate. It wasn't fair; why had he had to die while she was still alive? He could have protected Laurel and the others so much better than she could.

Wordlessly, Felicity walked to Laurel and wrapped her arms around the mourning brunette in a tight embrace as tears traced silently down her cheeks.

The Captain had been right. Killing someone did leave a scar. But Felicity didn't have time to dwell on that as she held Laurel, her eyes scanning the room through her tears. It was only a matter of time before the infected came pounding at their door and when they did, there was no telling how long Quentin Lance's makeshift barricade would hold them back. And Felicity, for one, would not let his sacrifice be in vain. 

Felicity and Laurel needed to move - and fast. They didn't have the luxury of giving in to their grief now. 


	19. Chapter 19

Oliver guided the car through the sweeping turn, pushing the speed as much as he dared; he was in a hurry to get back to the mansion, but he couldn't go back until they'd found and investigated this League safehouse that Nyssa was leading them to.

The sooner they got there, the sooner they could leave; but he couldn't very well do that if they crashed and died. And dying? It had never been less of an option than it was now. The very last thing he wanted was to contemplate leaving Felicity without his protection.

"Geez man, where's the fire?" Roy commented from beside him, looking at Oliver smugly from the passenger seat. "You got a hot date or something?" He teased and Oliver raised a single brow and suppressed a smile.

"What I've got is a mansion of civilians left with minimal protection and a lab of people with the power to cure this thing, who are waiting for my help. So yeah, there's a little fire." Oliver bit back, though without any real heat. Truthfully, nothing was more motivating to him than the knowledge that Felicity was waiting for him.

"I would hardly declare Sara 'minimal protection'; rest assured that while we are gone, Ta-er al-Safar will guard your friends and associates most vigilantly." Nyssa commented from the back seat, prompting Oliver to grip the steering wheel tightly. Apparently noticing his irritation, Nyssa leaned forward so her head was level with the pair of men in the front seat. "And from what I've observed of your associates Mister Diggle and Miss Michaels, they are both rather accomplished fighters in their own regard, and Sara's father is skilled with firearms. I would say that the group is moderately well defended."

"Since when do you compliment us?" Roy remarked in surprise and Nyssa arched a brow in his direction.

"I recognize skill, Mister Harper. But recognizing your friends' talents hardly means I consider them worthy opponents. I am realistic, after all." Nyssa remarked smugly, prompting Roy to shoot her a glare.

"I think we have enough common enemies to fight before we resort to fighting each other." Oliver interrupted, a thin layer of annoyance cloaking his voice as he broke up the pair. Roy and Nyssa both sat back, arms crossed, and Oliver took a deep breath.

It was going to be a long drive.

\-----

"This way!" John barked over his shoulder as he raced to catch up to Lyla and Sin as they sprinted through the Queen mansion. For once, he was thankful that the initial weeks of his association with Oliver had been spent as the man's bodyguard. It was only the knowledge of the mansion's layout that he had gleaned during that time which saved them now as the former soldier took the lead through the halls, his wailing infant daughter strapped to his chest. It was his daughter and his daughter alone that had kept him grounded in the moments when Felicity had chosen to stay behind, surrounded by the infected as she fought to help the Lances. 

The look on her face when she'd told him to tell Oliver she was sorry would be burned into his memory for the rest of his days - however many of those he had left. 

As he threw open the door that led to the massive area dubbed the garage (but which was more akin to a car showroom, in truth), he glanced around at their transportation options uncertainly. Grabbing up the first key he could from the rack, he studied the key fab for a moment before he thrust his hand in the opposite direction.

"The BMW. Go, go _go!"_ He ordered as Lyla and Sin raced past him and he smashed the unlock button so hard his thumb ached. The trio hurried towards the car as behind them, the sounds of the undead that had given chase echoed from the hallway.

"Johnny, give me the baby!" Lyla directed as he tried to jump into the driver's seat, only to remember belatedly that he was still wearing the bjorn. John paused long enough for Lyla to pluck their daughter from the seat and then he slung the carrier into the backseat after Sin. As he jumped into the driver's seat, he confirmed that his small family was secure within the vehicle and without hesitation, he brought the vehicle roaring to life.

"What about Sara? And her family and Felicity?!" Sin objected and John looked at her in the rearview mirror apologetically.

"We can't wait for them."

"Like hell we can't!" Sin shouted, but John had already smashed the button to open the automatic garage door and was guiding the four door towards it.

"There's nothing we can do for them now!" He roared, his fury directed at the situation rather than Sin. "The best we can do is get out of here and hope they can last until we can come back for them." He reasoned, trying to convince the young girl as much as himself. This felt wrong,  _so_ wrong, but his newly honed paternal instincts left no room for doubt, no space for discussion. John Diggle was a father and fatherhood meant making difficult decisions to protect the ones that you loved. 

Or at least, that's what his instincts seemed to be insisting 'fatherhood' meant. 

"John." Lyla said softly and he shook his head, refusing to look at her as he kept a tight grip on the wheel and sent the tires squealing as the car lurched out of the garage and streaked across the Queen estate grounds. Even as he did his best to find the path of least resistance, the dead swarmed the vehicle and bodies smashed against the windshield and the windows, leaving smears of crimson and cracks across the glass.

"I can't put you in the line of fire. Best case scenario, they got out of there and we'll meet up on the road, or I'll come back after the herd passes and try to find them." John swallowed thickly, trying and failing to ignore the bitter taste his decision left in his mouth. He had never been one to leave a man – or woman – behind before. The knowledge that Felicity, his partner, his friend, was back there, possibly needing him?

It tore him up inside. But he could help her no more than he could put his infant daughter at further risk from the infected. Her cries alone were drawing the infected outside of the mansion towards the vehicle; they couldn't afford to stop or slow down and risk getting bogged down by the bodies. 

"This is fucked up!" Sin yelled over the infant Diggle's wailing and John sucked in a deep, quavering breath.

"Yeah. It is." He growled as the vehicle careened onto the road and he put his foot to the pedal, urging it to top speeds as they fled the mansion and the friends they'd left behind in it. Aside from his daughter's cries, which quieted once Lyla had rocked her for a while, the car was silent as the three adults tried to process what had happened. It was half an hour before John finally felt that they'd driven far enough to stop for a moment.

Letting the car coast to a stop, he killed the engine and stared through the blood spattered windshield, finally allowing himself to emotionally process. Then, as Lyla put one comforting arm over his shoulders, John Diggle finally broke down. Leaning his head against the steering wheel, he wept for his family's precipitous change in circumstances, he wept for his friends' presumed fate. And he wept for the death of his conscious, which had never before allowed him to rest knowing that he had left a teammate behind.

And now? Now he had left three.

_God forgive me._

\-----

"No, what I'm saying is we can't go back there empty handed!" Roy countered, glaring at Nyssa as the two squared off amid the car.

"We are hardly empty handed." Nyssa retorted coolly, pointing to the gym bag of supplies they'd managed to scavenge after their less than successful scouting trip. The League's safehouse, it seemed, was safe no more courtesy of a gas leak that had ignited and blown out a whole chunk of the building it had been housed in. Not wanting to return empty handed, the trio had managed to nick some supplies from the ransacked remains of some of the neighboring apartment units before they'd marched sullenly back to the vehicle to begin the drive back to the mansion.

"Yeah, a lot of good that's gonna do us when we don't have a roof over our heads. We needed to find a safehouse, not a bunch of snacks." Roy grumbled irritably.  

"Enough!" Oliver cut in, sick of the bickering that had been going on virtually the entire trip. "The safehouse was overrun. So we move on. Check out new locations. We'll find something."

"Where? Oliver, nowhere is safe. Felicity's nerd friends said Central City is hit. That's six hundred miles from here! I don't even know how we would get one hundred miles the way things are, let alone six hundred. And if it's that far away, who says the rest of the country is any better?" Roy countered, prompting Oliver to swallow and stare ahead at the road, teeth gritted.

"I don't know, Roy. But we've got to try." Oliver responded, looking positively fed up. And he was. He had failed his city by failing to stop the outbreak and now he was failing his friends by failing to find them a safe place to weather out the rest of this metaphorical storm. Oliver was clutching at straws and he didn't know what to do next. And bearing the burden of responsibility for keeping everyone safe? It was beginning to exact a heavy toll.

"I still vote we go back to the Foundry." Roy announced unceremoniously and Oliver shook his head.

"We can't comfortably keep that many people pent up underground, with no natural light, no windows, no fresh air. They'd all go stir crazy. Not to mention that would require going into one of the worst hit areas of Starling." Oliver reasoned and Roy shook his head, his jaw set.

"Well then what do we do? Wait for the mansion to to get hit?"

"No." Oliver shot back hotly, trying and failing not to get riled up. "We keep searching."

"Where do you propose we look then? Your city is in shambles." Nyssa mused and Oliver met her gaze through the rearview mirror.

"I have an idea."

"Do you care to share or am I meant to divine your intentions myself?" Nyssa inquired and Oliver bit the inside of his cheek to keep from lashing out verbally; they were on the same side. Or at least, he hoped they were.

"It's a secondary facility. In case the Foundry was ever compromised."

"Well I'd say a horde of the undead knocking at its door is the very definition of 'compromised', don't you think?" Roy queried and Oliver arched a brow at him.

"We'll check back with everyone at the mansion, then we can go and see if the secondary facility is safe." Oliver surmised at last, squaring his shoulders with a deep breath. Focusing on the road rather than the pair of hard headed fighters occupying the passenger and back seats, Oliver maintained his vigilance, anxiously looking for signs of the infected. With the city as decimated as it was, it wouldn't be too long before the herds began to roam farther from the city center. And when they did? Well, Oliver wanted everyone well away from the mansion before the infected came close.

He still remembered the hospital all too vividly; the panic and the rising odds against them as the infected had spread like wildfire, outnumbering them so quickly he couldn't keep track of them all. Coming from them at all sides. The blind panic, the gut wrenching fear. The last thing he wanted was to relive that – or to have his loved ones live through it.

Or worse…-

_No_. He couldn't let himself think like that. He'd go crazy if he did. His sanity was already stretched to the breaking point.

But as another mile marker flew past, Oliver felt that familiar prickle of unease creep up his spine, though he couldn't put his finger on the cause of it. And though he was trying so hard to cling to a more optimistic but still realistic point of view, he couldn't help the seed of dread taking root inside of him. The ride had been mercifully uneventful; they hadn't seen so much as one infected individual the whole drive and only a handful in the city itself.

_Wait_.

Not one. Not a single chewed up, mangled, bloodied, walking corpse. There had always been at least a handful of them on previous drives, drawn by the sound of the car. But to have none? That was new. And new was not necessarily good. If the infected weren't here, where were they?

His answer came three quarters of a mile later.

Oliver pulled the car over to the side of the road in silent awe and fear, a bead of sweat tracing down his brow as he stepped slowly from the vehicle, Nyssa and Roy following suit. Before them, the asphalt was smeared in gore; just a quick glance revealed bits of entrails and more blood than any living person could survive losing. The grass and trees off along the shoulder were trampled and snapped, showing signs that something or someone had passed through the area with little to no regard for the mess it made.

Kneeling to get a closer look, Oliver's hand hovered just above the ground as he tried to read the trail. His eyes traced across the path the many pairs of feet had taken, and he swallowed hard as he caught sight of something in the distance. Unbidden, his heart began to race as a picture started to form inside of his head.

"We need to go back. _Now_." Oliver growled, rising suddenly and hurrying to the driver side door. Nyssa and Roy lingered, looking at the green clad vigilante uncertainly.

"Oliver, what's wrong?"

"Get in the car, Roy!"

"Not until you give us an adequate explanation." Nyssa stated coolly, her hand touching on the bow at her back in warning. Oliver tensed even more and struck the top of the car with his right hand in anger.

"Look at the road! Those are footprints! In _blood_. The strides are all uneven and wrong. Those are the footprints of the infected. _A herd_."

"Yeah, I got that; believe it or not I actually can put two and two together." Roy interrupted smarmily, and Oliver's eyes flashed as he glared at his protégé.

"And which way are they headed?!" Oliver roared, watching as the realization dawned cold and sick on both of his companions.

"The mansion." Nyssa breathed, throwing herself back at the car, Roy in hot pursuit. The moment they were inside, Oliver floored the engine and whipped the car around in a brutal about-face.

"I knew this was a bad idea." Oliver growled in an undertone, more to himself than to the others. "I should never have left."

"You didn't know, Oliver. None of us did." Roy tried to reason but the older man would not be convinced.

"My instincts said leaving was the wrong play. I should have listened. This was a mistake from the beginning." He muttered through gritted teeth, a white knuckled grip on the wheel as he pushed the car as fast as he dared. Winding up in a car wreck would only worsen matters. Still, it took all of his self control not to let his lead foot take over and simply push the car to its limits.

"Oliver, you don't know that anything's happened! Ease up on yourself, man!" Roy tried to soothe his mentor, only for Oliver to whip his head to stare at the younger man, eyes blazing.

"The blood was fresh, Roy. The infected don't have fresh blood. So what does that mean?" Oliver inquired, watching as a shadow fell over his protégé's face.

"They killed something." He answered darkly and Oliver turned his gaze back to the road.

"I'm beginning to wonder if they weren't  _fed_ something." Oliver mused, eliciting a stunned reaction from both Roy and Nyssa as the former vigilante brooded over the steering wheel. 

"What kind of sick freak would try to  _feed_ these things?!" Roy queried and Oliver shook his head, not giving voice to his concerns. Not just yet, anyway. He needed to know, needed to be certain, before he gave them any additional cause for concern. 

_Please just let them be alright._ He thought desperately, his face pinched with worry and lined with fear. _Keep them safe. Keep **her** safe. I just got her back. I can't lose her again – I won't. _

\-----

 "Laurel… _Laurel_." Felicity murmured, squeezing the brunette's upper arm to try and rouse her from her grief. "Laurel, we have to move." Felicity whispered, her chest tight with sorrow and her voice rough with the emotion she was trying so hard to hold back. Felicity had lost a friend, but Laurel had lost a father. Felicity knew too well how that loss could hurt – and she had hardly even known hers. Felicity wouldn't put the burden of her grief on Laurel when Laurel was already grappling with her own. She had to be strong – for Laurel's sake and for Captain Lance's memory.

Extricating herself from the other woman's embrace, Felicity tried to hold herself together as she went to the window, only to go so weak in the knees that she nearly fell.

There were walking bodies all across the grounds; in the time it would take for her and Laurel to climb down to the ground, the infected would swarm them. Leaving via the window, the way that Captain Lance had suggested? It wasn't a very viable option. At least not right now.

They needed a plan, they needed some means of escape. And they needed it _now_. Looking around the room, Felicity tried to create a mental map of where they were within the mansion, only to come up woefully uncertain. She'd barely been in this place before the outbreak and even now, she'd only ventured into a fraction of the rooms. If anyone knew this layout, it was Laurel.

"Laurel." Felicity said the brunette's name again, kneeling before her and placing a hand on either of the woman's shoulders. "Laurel we have to go. He wouldn't want us to stay. He gave his life so we could live. We can't let that be in vain." Felicity urged her and Laurel seemed to shudder, her sobs quiet as she slowly, with the help of Felicity, got to her feet. Sniffling  raggedly, she tried to nod as she pressed her palms to her face and wiped her tears away.

"I'll tie the bedsheets together." Laurel intoned, her voice completely flat, her agony having left her monotone as she walked (only a little unsteadily) towards the bed. Before she'd taken more than a few steps though, Felicity grabbed her wrist and drew her up short.

"We can't go out the window. Look." Felicity redirected the former ADA's attention and watched as Laurel took in the sight without any hint of surprise or fear.

"No, we can't. _Of course we can't._ " The sarcasm dripped thickly off her words and Laurel sighed heavily, touching a hand to her forehead as she considered their options and began to pace. Felicity could sense the other woman's frustration and sorrow mounting and as she watched, Laurel's right hand curled into a shaking fist. As the tech savvy blonde watched, she was fearful Laurel might put her fist through a wall but instead she simply kept her hands in fists and closed her eyes as she tried to brainstorm.

Brainstorming, however, quickly became a difficult thing to attempt when a loud _thud_ against the bedroom door made the heavy wood shudder. Loud groans followed and Felicity felt her hair stand on end and her skin pimple into goose flesh.

The dead were literally knocking on their door.

"The roof." Felicity stated hollowly, swallowing nervously even as she said the words, a sour tang of desperation on her tongue as she gave voice to the sole idea she had for escape.

"The roof?" Laurel repeated and Felicity nodded.

"If we can get to the roof, maybe we can get across to the garage. We'll at least be safe up there if they overrun the room and we can wait there for someone to come back for us, if worst comes to worst." Felicity suggested, although the very notion of waiting days without food or water for either Oliver or Diggle's groups to return sounded absolutely awful.

"But-" Laurel began, looking helplessly at the closed bathroom door, beyond which her father's body lay.

"There's nothing we can do for him, Laurel. We have to move. _Now_!" Felicity gasped urgently as the thuds against the door grew louder, a few more groans forming a chorus as more of the dead found their way to the room's door.

Scrambling, the pair rushed for the window and Felicity tried her best not to look down at the walking corpses stumbling about below. Looking up at the space between the window and the roof, she groaned.

_"Oh frack."_


	20. Chapter 20

"Have I mentioned that I don't like heights? Like really, _really_ despise heights. Hate might actually be a more accurate term for how I feel about heights, if we're spli-"

"Felicity!" Laurel growled from below her as she did her best to give the blonde a boost up so she could reach the bedsheets they had miraculously (and after many failed attempts) managed to lasso onto one of the crenels along the roofline.

"Sorry!" Felicity chirped back as she took a firmer hold on the bedsheets, inhaling deeply before she put one unsteady foot on the stone wall of the mansion. "If I make it out of this, Oliver is so teaching me how he makes scaling walls and jumping off rooftops look so _easy_." She muttered to herself, doing her best to hoist herself up and out of Laurel's steadying hands as she made for the roofline.

Between her modest upper arm strength and her shoulder wound, scaling rooftops was hardly what she was best suited for. But her injury also precluded her from giving Laurel a boost, thus their current predicament.

As Felicity pulled herself up and on top of the roof in what was a long, rather ungainly process, she mentally added 'rock climbing' to her future self's workout routine. When at last she pulled herself onto the roof itself, she heaved a breath of relief and steadied herself a moment before she called down to Laurel.

"I'm up!" Felicity called, hurrying over to the crenel the bedsheets were looped on. Freeing them, she quickly retied the sheets to a closer crenel, buying additional slack in the bedsheet rope she and Laurel had created. "Okay, can you reach it now?" Felicity called down to Laurel, whose answer came shortly after the sheets went suddenly taut.

"Yep." Came a strained grunt and Felicity peered over the edge to find Laurel dangling precariously, clinging to the very edge of the sheets for dear life.

"Did y- _Did you just jump?!_ " Felicity gasped, only for Laurel to respond with an affirming nod and accompanying grunt. " _Seriously_?! Laurel you could have fallen and broken your neck!" Felicity gaped as the brunette struggled at the end of the bedsheets, staring up at the blonde with an apparent lack of amusement.

"Not exactly… helping right now… Felicity." Laurel panted and Felicity blanched for a moment before she nodded.

"Right." Bracing herself on the edge, Felicity offered up her good arm as Laurel struggled upward, seizing the offered arm so Felicity could help hoist the brunette up the remaining distance. Once the two were both standing on the rooftop, Felicity regarded Laurel with wide eyes, shaking her head in disbelief. "Where did you learn to do that?" Felicity queried, unable to keep the impressed tone out of her voice.

"Let's just say Sara's not the only one who has moves in the Lance family." Laurel remarked with a grin that quickly flickered and died as she sobered. "Dad taught us both some tricks when we were younger." She added softly, her eyes dark as she looked once more to her friend.

"We'll find Sara." Felicity assured, swallowing nervously as she tried to think of something reassuring to say about the Lance family member that they both knew they wouldn't find whole and hale ever again. "And we'll come back… to give him a proper goodbye." She offered the poor comfort and from the squeeze Laurel gave her hand, she knew that it had been heard and appreciated.  

"We should go." Laurel sniffed faintly and Felicity nodded, seizing on the opportunity to change the subject back to their still very poor state of affairs. "The garage is this way." Laurel pointed, leading the way across the roof, slipping only occasionally on the loose roof tiles. Felicity followed after her, wincing as, more often than not, each step she took prompted a tile to crack or come loose from its holdings, sending small showers of tile tinkling down the sloped rooftop.

In short order, they were making their way downward, slipping and sliding as quietly as they could to the lowest point of the roof portion they were on, jumping down from the roof to a balcony and then from a balcony onto a trellis which acted as a ladder for them down to the ground at a point near to the garage. But even as her feet touched on solid ground, Felicity felt her fear and the adrenaline kick into overdrive as she and Laurel huddled in the shrubbery, waiting for a pair of infected to pass by them. They were so close that Felicity was convinced they'd hear the sound of her heart drumming within her chest but they passed by leaving the pair of women untouched as the dead stumbled off on their way.

"Now." Laurel whispered, grabbing Felicity's hand and tugging her through the shrubs so that they were standing in front of the garage door which they were both rather surprised to find was already open.

"They made it out." Felicity gasped softly, getting choked up at the notion that Diggle, Lyla, Sin, and the baby might have all made it out of the mansion alive and well.

"And so will we." Laurel muttered, pulling Felicity into the garage and hurrying for the key rack.

"Look out!" Felicity squealed, lurching suddenly backwards and taking Laurel with her as one of the infected reeled out from behind a car and grabbed at the air where Laurel had been standing a moment earlier. Ducking around to the other side of the vehicle, the duo raced for the keys and as they approached, Felicity scanned the assortment of key fabs. As they drew near, Laurel grabbed the nearest one but Felicity shook her head, grabbing instead for a different key.

"This one, trust me." She panted, offering the key to Laurel who blinked at the blonde for a moment but acquiesced. Shying away from another of the infected, they darted diagonally across the garage, Laurel smashing the unlock button on the key fab as she glanced around at the handful of cars still housed in the garage.

"There." Laurel breathe d in relief as the headlights on a sleek black crossover lit up, prompting her to raise her brows at Felicity. "A Porsche?"

"A hybrid." Felicity corrected as the pair threw open the doors and slipped inside, locking the doors behind them hurriedly. "What? Better gas mileage." Felicity shrugged defensively, prompting Laurel to smirk as she coaxed the engine to life and threw the car into reverse, swerving intentionally to run over the infected man that had jumped out at them before.

"Look, there are tire tracks in the grass there; they must have gone that way." Felicity pointed, leading Laurel to turn the wheel sharply to the left as she maneuvered the vehicle away from the ruined mansion and in the direction their friends had seemingly gone.

\-----

Minutes seemed to stretch into eternity as Oliver guided the trio back to the mansion, all the while repeating his silent prayer that Felicity and the others were safe. Still, it took more minutes than he cared to count before they pulled into sight of his family home and when they did?

Oliver's heart dropped to his feet as the caught sight of the mansion and found dozens of the infected roaming the grounds, shuffling about without purpose. Hitting the gas, he swerved the car towards the nearest one, going off onto the shoulder of the road to hit the man, who promptly ricocheted off of the car's windshield and off the road altogether.

"OLIVER!" Roy bellowed from beside him, clutching his seat as the car bucked about until Oliver guided it back onto the road. "Crashing the car's not going to do anyone any good!" Roy reminded his mentor, who gave the youth a withering glare before he turned his eyes to the road and urged the car towards the sprawling drive of the mansion. He'd run over half a dozen more of the infected before he brought the car to a halt in a cloud of gravel and dust near the front entrance.

Without giving Nyssa or Roy any instructions, he leapt from the vehicle and raced up the stone steps, throwing open the door and rushing inside without bothering to do any reconnaissance.

The infected had broken in through the large glass pane windows on the back half of the mansion and now were strewn about the place, some of them still walking, some crawling. Scenes of struggle were everywhere – most notably, the car that had been crashed into the foot of the staircase, apparently having run over some of the dead in the process.

"FELICITY!" Oliver bellowed, swinging his head from side to side as his eyes searched for her and the others with an all-consuming fear.  Behind him, he heard footsteps as Roy and Nyssa raced into the mansion after him, and the noise of anguish Roy made was the last thing Oliver heard before he plunged headlong up the stairs and down the hallway, kicking open doors as he went.

"Felicity?! Diggle!" He screamed, swinging his bow down on the face of one of the infected and repeating the process until a sickening crunch caved in the man's nose and he stilled permanently. "ANYONE!" Oliver called, kicking in the door to his mother's old study and surveying it with a hasty glance before he continued down the hall.

Behind him, he could hear Nyssa calling for Sara and Roy calling for Sin, as well as the others but their cries too were met with silence save for the groans and moans of the dead. _Felicity might be one of them now_ , he thought darkly and with that thought, Oliver felt his grasp on reality slipping. Because if Felicity was dead, he didn't know how he was supposed to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

It wasn't until he came to a door that didn't open when kicked that he felt the smallest ray of hope as he once more threw his body at the door, shoulder first.

"FELICITY!" He bellowed, ramming into the door again, and then again, managing to make it budge only the slightest bit. It was barricaded. From the inside – someone living had made it into this room and had been well enough of body to fortify it. That had to be a good sign.

"Roy! Come help me!" Oliver bellowed and in short order, the red leather clad youth was at his side, regarding the door with worried eyes.

"Are they in there?"

"Help me break the door open and we'll find out." Oliver responded tersely before he glanced to Nyssa, who was striding down the hall, her features pinched with worry. "Keep the infected back so we can sweep the room; they might be inside." He instructed and the raven haired woman nodded, clutching the sword in her hands more tightly as she drew herself up and stood guard.

"On the count of three?" Roy offered and Oliver nodded as they backed away from the door in unison as Roy sounded off. "One… two… THREE!"

Pushing off of the wall opposite the door, the pair barreled at it together, slamming into it with a sharp cracking sound as the door budged before their persistent assault, opening only slightly as whatever object(s) behind it moved as well.

"Again." Oliver insisted and the two backed up and repeated the process of ramming into the door, succeeding in opening it further. Wedging himself in the growing gap, Oliver threw his weight behind him and shoved and together with Roy, the two men managed to push aside the large dresser that had been blocking them from entering the room.

"Felicity?! Diggle? Sara! Laurel!" Oliver queried in a raised whisper as he and Roy swept the room. Finding nothing, Oliver pointed to one closed door. "Roy, you take the closet. I'll take the bathroom." Oliver suggested and the pair split off to their respective closed doors.

Oliver's fingers lit upon the bathroom door handle and he swallowed once before he wrenched the door open, half expecting to find the woman he loved injured, dead, or worse, _undead_. Instead, he found a sight that was almost equally upsetting as what his own imagination had conjured.

Reeling, Oliver fell to his knees before Quentin Lance's body, tears forming in the corners of his eyes as he took in the fallen officer, his hand hovering over but not quite touching the body. _No no no no no_! His thoughts screamed in his head, echoing and reverberating even as his own voice failed him as he stared in open mouthed horror at the body of the Captain.

"I've got nothing, what about you?" Roy called and Oliver was distantly aware of footsteps as Roy walked towards the bathroom. And Oliver wanted to stand, to leave the room and close the door and shield the younger man from the sight of the Captain like this. But he couldn't move, couldn't speak, could hardly even breathe, let alone prevent Roy from seeing the very sight that had paralyzed him with horror.

The brunette made it two steps into the bathroom before he froze, going still as the grave in the threshold of the room.

"Oliver," he muttered faintly, laying a hand on his mentor's shoulder. Oliver shrugged the hand off though, too afraid that further exploration of the house might reveal a similar fate had befallen Felicity. "-Oliver – we have to go." Roy urged as he hauled the older man back, forcing Oliver out of the bathroom and onto his feet.

"The Captain-" Oliver began, only to be cut off.

"-He's gone. There's nothing you can do Oliver. We have to finish looking for the others and then get out of here. The place is crawling with corpses – we can come back when it's safe and bury him." Roy insisted over Oliver's objections, once more assuming the authoritative role that he had been forced into when Oliver had been absent, once more reminding Oliver of how much the younger man had been forced to grow and mature in so short a time.

Nodding, Oliver passed a hand over his face and steadied himself, frowning as Roy ducked back into the bathroom.

"What are you doing?!" Oliver protested, only for Roy to reemerge a moment later with a confused expression.

"I was going to take his gun, but he doesn't have it on him." Roy commented, doing a quick visual scan of the room as he searched for the gun in question. "Maybe he lost it in the scuffle?" Roy offered and Oliver froze, the hair on his body standing on end.

"Or maybe someone took it." Oliver stated softly, his eyes locking on the open window in the corner nook of the room. The only open window in the room, the breeze kicking up outside sent the curtains billowing in the wind, further drawing Oliver's attention. Stalking forward, Oliver looked out the window at the ground below, hungrily searching for signs someone had fled from the window. But there were no footsteps in the mud, no broken trellis branches, nothing. It was as he was about to pull himself back inside that he saw it though; on the overhang just above the window, the roof tiles were broken, almost as though someone had been walking on the roof above.

Oliver felt the adrenaline flood his system as hope sprang back into his eyes. Leaning further out the window, he was able to crane his neck and just make out a corner of bedsheet dangling from the sloped roof above. _Someone had left this room alive. And they had gone that way._

"Roy; we have to get to the roof. Now."

"The roof?! Oliver-"

"They went this way." Oliver cut Roy off, the certainty in his tone silencing Roy as the younger man came to the windowsill, following Oliver's point and staring up at the roof.

"How did they even get up there?" Roy muttered, to which Oliver responded by taking his bow and fitting a grappling arrow to it, firing it wordlessly. Giving the rope a firm tug to be certain it would bear his weight, he glanced back at Roy.

"I'm guessing bedsheets and adrenaline." Oliver growled as he hauled himself up, using the rope to support himself as he scaled his way up to the roof of the mansion. When at last both feet were on level ground, he released his hold on the rope so Roy could follow him. By the time his protégé joined him, Oliver was already bent over the line of bedsheets that had been tied together as rope, studying them for clues and coming up empty.

"You think they climbed their way out on a bedsheet? Oh my god, Felicity's going to be _pissed,_ you know how much she hates heights…" Roy trailed, doing his best to lighten the mood. Oliver rose without comment, staring off across the roof with a bleak expression.

"I thought they'd be up here." He confessed, rubbing the back of his neck as he studied the trail of broken roof tiles.

"They don't know we came back though." Roy stated and Oliver shot him a glare.

"That's really helpful Roy, thanks."

"No but think about it! For all they know, we're still gonna be gone at least another couple days, right? So where would they go to wait for us?" Roy encouraged and Oliver stilled, thinking deeply on the younger man's words. _Where would Felicity want to go?_

The normal answers were off the table – the Foundry, Queen Consolidated – they were overrun and hardly the place any of the group would go to, even as desperate as they must be. Their own apartments would be no better off, closer to the city as they were. The clocktower Sara had used as a hideout still hadn't finished being rebuilt (and was also located in the heart of the city).

All of their meaningful places were fraught with danger. He couldn't honestly think of where the group could go and have any hope of finding safety, shelter, and food.

"Oliver, Felicity trusts you… We all do. Where would she trust you to find her if she had to go somewhere?" Roy pressed and Oliver squatted down on the roof, pressing his hands to his temples as Roy's words brought a memory screaming back to him from the recesses of his brain.

 

_He could still remember the night she'd asked if she could trust him. The way the raindrops had decorated the glass windows of Big Belly Burger and the head and tail lights on the passing cars had made the wet streets of the city glow, spreading warmth and color through the cool night air.  He'd waved to her as she'd approached the restaurant, looking beautiful in a dark coat, the pink of her shirt peeking out from beneath, her hands all aflutter with nervous energy._

_"Hi."_

_"Hi."_

_"Thanks for meeting me I was… nervous to come to your house." She'd confessed with a soft, nervous laugh and a gentle smile that had elicited a smile from him._

_"Okay." He'd responded back, mirth in his voice as he looked at her with a slight sense of awe._

_"The thing is I've been debating whether or not to share this with you for weeks… Can I trust you?" She'd asked suddenly, prompting his brows to furrow in a tidy little frown as he stared at her, taken off guard by the question. "I'm not an idiot- you've dropped some fairly ridiculous lies on me and… yet I still feel like I can trust you." She'd confessed, laughing uneasily at herself. "Why is that?" She'd asked, her eyes boring into his with an intensity and an authenticity that he was unaccustomed to and simultaneously drawn to._

_"I have one of those faces…" He'd answered flippantly, causing her face to fall as the false tone of his voice and the inauthentic response seemed to scream the opposite. As she looked away from him with disappointment spelled plainly on her face, he'd closed his eyes and set aside his façade for a moment before he'd regarded her anew. "Sorry." He'd said instead, the single word once more drawing her attention to him as he continued. "Yes. You can trust me..."_

"The Big Belly Burger." Oliver stated as he rose to his feet again, turning to face Roy with newfound confidence.

"The… the burger joint? Seriously?" Roy commented in disbelief, only for Oliver to glower at him darkly, prompting the youth to raise his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I'm always up for a burger but… you really think she'll go there, of all places?"

"Trust me." Oliver responded slowly, the words rolling heavily off his tongue. "She'll go there. Let's get Nyssa and finish sweeping the place. We need to move."

\-----

"You want to go to _ARGUS_?!"

"Do you have a better idea?!"

"No, but anything would be better than ARGUS!"

The two squared off with each other, eyes blazing. Tempers were running high, and in the confined space of the vehicle that was hardly a good thing.

"Talk about cutting the tension with a knife." A third voice muttered and the pair whirled in the front seat to face Sin, who was reclined in the back seat with baby Diggle, who was sound asleep. "I don't know whether you're gonna punch or kiss. Geez." Sin remarked with a roll of her shoulders as she turned her focus back to the baby, shifting the infant awkwardly in her arms.

John passed a hand over his face and sighed heavily as he looked to Lyla, who was in a similar state of deflating tension. Since the mansion's fall, they'd taken turns driving, not stopping except to siphon gas for the car. With nowhere safe to go, they'd been driving in ever changing patterns on back roads and rural streets, trying to avoid another herd – or worse, the living. The last thing John Diggle needed was to run into some desperate thugs looking to roll an unsuspecting group of survivors.

His family wouldn't survive long on foot; the baby's cries would draw any and all infected within hearing.

"Johnny, I know it's a gamble. But it's all we've got." Lyla reasoned softly, staring hopefully at him as he reopened his eyes and gave a slow exhale.

"Fine. We'll go to ARGUS. But we're not going in there blind. I want to do as much recon as we can before we so much as step foot in that building. If Amanda Waller is still there, she'll shoot us on sight if she thinks we are the slightest risk to her precious division's safety from this mess."

"And if we avoid going in there guns blazing, she might let us stay there. Johnny, I don't like the idea of being under her thumb either, but the woman's methods could keep us safe. _All of us_." Lyla said pointedly, turning to glance once more at their slumbering daughter.

"Why do you think I said yes?" John sighed heavily, guiding the car off of the shoulder he'd pulled over on when the argument had broken out. It was only his desperation to protect the three precious lives entrusted to his care that drove him to even consider going to Amanda Waller for help at a time such as this.

If they went to ARGUS, there was every possibility Waller would prevent Lyla and John from going back into the field to search for their missing friends. Knowing Waller, she'd bar them from leaving under the guise of minimizing exposure to the infected but really, she'd thrill in lording her power over them in an effort to break the two former soldiers and build them back up into drones she could command.

Going to ARGUS was a gamble. Not going to ARGUS was a gamble. But every way he turned, John Diggle found only qualms where he desperately needed certainty. And if this was the best he could do by his family, then ARGUS it was, love it or hate it.

And he hated it. He really, really hated it.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay folks! My work schedule has been hectic to say the least - lots of odd hours and overtime which has left me with almost no time for writing. But if it's any consolation, I'm already halfway finished with the next chapter, so the wait should not be near as long between chapters this time! As always, enjoy and thanks for reading!

"We've got less than a quarter tank of gas, Felicity. We haven't seen  _anything_ to give us any clues as to where Diggle and Lyla went. So remind me  _why are we at a Big Belly Burger?!_ " Laurel hissed softly as she jimmied the back door of said burger shop, as Felicity stood guard behind her.

"We needed a safe place to stop for the night, we needed food, and there's a slight, albeit remote, chance that Oliver might come looking for us here once he and the others get back and see we're not at the mansion." Felicity explained hurriedly, just before a sharp, prolonged  _crack_ announced that Laurel had succeeded in forcing the door open.

"Do I even want to know why Oliver's going to come looking for us here?" Laurel queried heavily and Felicity bit her lower lip nervously and shook her head.

"Probably not."

"Why did I suspect that was going to be your answer?" Laurel sighed as she nudged the door open with the toe of her boot. Holding the crowbar they'd taken with them out of the tire kit in the car, she edged into the room, closely followed by Felicity, flashlight in hand.

They swept the small restaurant in a matter of minutes, relieved to find it ransacked but mercifully free of occupants – living, dead, or otherwise.

"So much for finding food here." Laurel sighed as she tossed an empty storage container onto the service counter, resting her face on her elbow as she leaned on the countertop heavily.

"I'm sorry; I thought maybe there would still be supplies." Felicity groaned and Laurel shook her head.

"Don't apologize, it's not your fault. You were just brainstorming places for us to go. Bizarre places, but places nonetheless." Laurel commented with a fraction of a smile, prompting Felicity to exhale heavily.

"Tell me I'm not crazy for bringing us here." Felicity pleaded, burying her face in her hands, her fingers threading through her hair and mussing it as she panicked internally at the notion that she had led them here on a foolish, farfetched lark.  Laurel pursed her lips as she contemplated for a moment and then turned to glance at Felicity.

"Hard to do without knowing our basis for coming here." She answered honestly and Felicity gave a soft groan.

"It sounds stupid when I try to put it into words."

"Don't forget that I was an attorney; I've probably heard worse stories." Laurel tried to reassure Felicity teasingly, but the blonde only shook her head as she met Laurel's gaze, looking panic stricken.

"This is where I asked Oliver if I could trust him. And he said yes. And there was a kind of a… a moment." Felicity explained weakly, the words feeling wholly inadequate, more so aloud than they had in her head – and even in her head, they'd been less than impressive. "It's the place we've always gone after missions, it's like a security blanket, almost. We eat here or at the Foundry but for us, it's always Big Belly Burger." Felicity shrugged.

"And you think… because of that… he'll come looking for us…  _here_." Laurel intoned with raised brows, nodding faintly as she swallowed thickly. "Alright. Yeah that one's definitely a leap." Laurel nodded, patting Felicity's shoulder reassuringly. "But fortunately, Oliver and you have that weird mind thing of yours, so knowing him, he'll come swinging in here on a zip-line in three seconds flat." Laurel murmured and Felicity, who had dropped her head to the tabletop in an effort to suffocate herself for her stupidity, raised her head suddenly, long blonde locks askew as she regarded Laurel.

"What… what 'mind thing' are you talking about?!" Felicity asked, her face scrunching up in confusion as she eyeballed the brunette uncomprehendingly. Laurel rolled her eyes with a faint smile and a shake of her head as she came to stand on the side of the counter opposite of Felicity, lowering her face so it was on a level with the blonde.

"You two, for all your tip-toeing around each other for the last few years, have this… weird way of knowing what the other one needs. Whether it's a little touch or a stern talk or just showing up. I swear, it's like you read each other's minds sometimes. You know just what to do or say.  So no matter how ridiculous or obscure the connection, if you think Oliver will come here looking for you? I'm inclined to believe you." Laurel shrugged, giving Felicity's hand a quick squeeze before she pushed away from the counter and went back to rummaging about in the kitchen, leaving Felicity to contemplate her words.

 _Mind thing_. It was ridiculous. She and Oliver didn't know what the other needed. And they certainly couldn't read each other's minds – if they could, that would have made things a lot more awkward early on in their partnership.  _Especially when he was on the salmon ladder._ The thoughts that had crossed her brain would have definitely been blush-inducing if shared with Oliver back then.

Oh. The salmon ladder.  _Not the time to think about that_ , she reminded herself dully. With a heavy exhale, she rose away from the counter and began to search through the debris the looters had left behind, careful to step gingerly around the broken glass and the burglarized cash register, the drawer on which was open and cleaned out.

Of all the things to worry about in a crisis, someone had really bothered with robbing the register?

"Someone had messed up priorities." Felicity sighed, moving across the dining space to find a booth in the back of the shop. After the day they'd had, she felt exhausted. And granted, that was beginning to become a permanent state for her but that didn't make it any easier to cope with. She'd hardly recovered from her initial rescue. And now she needed rescuing again.

 _Unless you rescue yourself._  She thought simply as she settled into a booth, curling her knees up to her chin as she tried to make herself comfortable.  _If I could find a way to track Oliver and locate him, we wouldn't need saving._ For once,  _she'd_ be the one doing the saving.  But without functioning communications systems, her technological skills weren't exactly the most useful rescue tools.

 _But no one said you had to use tech smarts to find Oliver._ She reminded herself and suddenly, Felicity sat bolt upright in the seat, her eyes wide.

"Kick it old school." She muttered, scrunching up her face in distaste at the fact that those words had actually just left her mouth. "Focus." She said aloud to herself, scrambling to her feet as her eyes swung around the small restaurant. "LAUREL!" She shouted, clapping a hand to her mouth belatedly as she realized she'd shouted the other woman's name. There was a clatter from the other side of the restaurant before Laurel skidded into view, a skillet held aloft in one hand, her crowbar in the other.

"What is it?! Where? Is it Zytle? I'll beat the living shi-" She panted, her eyes wide as she looked around wildly, only for Felicity to approach her and gently put a hand to Laurel's right hand, helping her to lower her skillet wielding hand.

"It's not Zytle. It's nothing I just- I had an idea. That's all." Felicity explained, watching tension seep from Laurel's frame as the brunette sagged wearily against the wall. Her eyes closed over and she took a deep breath before she nodded.

"What was your idea?"

"When you're lost you look for directions, right?" Felicity began eagerly, fidgeting anxiously as she tried to explain. "That's true even now. So if we want to find the others, all we have to do is leave them directions to where we are!" Felicity chattered animatedly, her hands aflutter as she tried to convey her plan.

"That's great but how do we get them the directions, Felicity? We don't exactly have functioning cell phones or GPS…" Laurel pointed out and Felicity shook her head and her hands in unison.

"No, we don't need them for this! I mean, they'd certainly help but my plan? It doesn't include cell phones."

"So what  _does_ your plan include?" Laurel asked with raised brows and the barest note of skepticism in her tone. Smirking Felicity turned and pointed to the bulletin board occupying one stretch of wall in the restaurant. Amongst the want ads and for sale flyers, a small advertisement for a nearby hardware store hung cockeyed.

"Spray paint." Felicity said confidently as she tapped the advertisement before ripping it down and handing it over to Laurel. "Lots of spray paint. Before there was GPS, we had maps. So we're going to give them one. Or at least, we're going to give them something to follow. To find us." Felicity rambled nervously, the idea of going back out into the ravaged landscape that the city had become leaving her more than a little on edge. The urge to find their friends, however, far outweighed her self preservation instincts. 

\-----

"You honestly think your beloved is going to drive to one of those establishments serving your fried potatoes?" Nyssa questioned skeptically from the backseat as Oliver spurred the car to dangerous speeds as they made for the city.

Oliver gritted his teeth, his eyes flashing dangerously as Roy interrupted with a raised hand, turning in the passenger seat to look at Nyssa.

"It's really better if you just don't question it." Roy advised and Nyssa's eyes narrowed in the young man's direction in displeasure.

"I'm not prone to blindly following. I question decisions, particularly unsound ones." Nyssa rebuked. Sighing in exasperation, Roy shook his head.

"It's not an unsound decision, okay? This isn't just Oliver pulling an Oliver and going off half-cocked." Roy explained, earning him an exasperated look from Oliver. Rushing to explain himself further, Roy went on. "If he thinks it's where Felicity will be, then there's a pretty good chance she'll be there – and if the others are with her, they'll be there too."

"Your confidence is surprising, given that you can't possibly  _know_ she'll be there." Nyssa remarked and Roy chuckled despite himself.

"They do this – Felicity and Oliver? They just  _get_ each other. It's weird. But I've learned not to question it." He shrugged and turned around to face forward again, earning himself an amused look from Oliver.

"We 'get each other'? Since when? I'm pretty sure our past bickering begs to differ."

"Oh please. You two have this like… next level communication thing going on. It's weird, don't get me wrong, but it seems to work. Felicity can usually predict what you're going to ask for or need. It's like she's in your head, even in the field. I'm your partner and  _I'm_ not even that in tune to you." Roy confessed and Oliver chuckled and shook his head.

"I think you're overstating things a bit."

"Dude, she bought you a bed. And a fern. She knows what you need before you do. And you usually know what she needs. So if you think Big Belly Burger is where she'll be? I'm sold on the idea." Roy muttered, pretending to dust off his hands and be done with matters.

In answer, Oliver turned his focus back to the road, neatly guiding the vehicle around an abandoned Prius. _Of all the foolish cars to use at a time like this._ He thought harshly, only to swallow nervously at the memory that Felicity herself drove a Mini Cooper – hardly your survivalist's vehicle of choice. Scrutinizing the vehicle as they passed, Oliver swallowed nervously, his concern over Felicity's welfare somehow seeming to double in that moment.

"Let's hope I'm right then." He sighed.

\-----

"Orange is really not my color." Felicity muttered as she slipped out of the driver seat of the car, Laurel following suit from the passenger seat. They'd parked around the back of Big Belly Burger, hoping that location would be more inconspicuous if any unwanted, living visitors happened by.

"Says the girl who wears pinks and pastels all the time." Laurel teased and Felicity grinned despite herself and shook her head.

"Okay, orange  _spray paint_ is not my aesthetic then." Felicity amended as the pair of women made for the back entrance to the restaurant. Their trip had been moderately productive; so far they had spray painted numerous road signs, some areas of asphalt road, and even a billboard (Felicity hadn't been a fan of that location, even though she'd had to grudgingly agree with Laurel that it was a good focal point to utilize). If anyone from their group was alive and looking for them, they would see one or more of Felicity's markers telling them where to go.

"How about cold baked beans? Is that your aesthetic, because that's what's for dinner." Laurel grimaced, holding aloft one of the cans of beans they'd found on their travels. It was hardly a bounty, but at this point they were going to take what they could get.  Wrinkling her nose in reply, Felicity stuck out her tongue but shrugged; she was hungry and food was food.

"I'll take baked beans over SPAM or cat food." She muttered lightheartedly at the memory of her food options when she and the Captain had been trapped in the apartment. The smile on her face, however, quickly vanished at the memory.

 _He should be here, having this conversation with Laurel._  She thought guiltily, focusing instead on getting back inside the restaurant.

As they jimmied the door open again, both women fell silent, sensing the urgent need to reassess the area to check for intruders that might have made themselves at home in their absence. Stepping into the restaurant, Felicity's eyes tried to adjust to the dark, not yet ready to give away her position to watching eyes by using the flashlight or a match. Instead, she felt around in the partial darkness and tossed a tray from the stack, listening as it clattered loudly in the otherwise silent space.

When no answering footfalls or groans met the sound, Felicity huffed a sigh of relief and from behind her, she heard the  _click_ that preceded the beam of light from the flashlight as Laurel turned it on and swept the kitchen area. The tension was almost palpable until Laurel finished sweeping the tiny cooking space. That done, they moved deeper into the restaurant, ensuring that the seating area was similarly empty. Reassured, Felicity slumped into the nearest booth.

"My nerves are so not cut out for this." She murmured as Laurel fell into the seat opposite her, the brunette's nerves similarly shot by the day's events.

"That makes two of us." Laurel sighed. After a few moments spent thusly, a loud grumble punctuated the quiet, bringing both women to chuckle understandingly.

"I guess my stomach is more excited about those baked beans than the rest of me." Laurel sighed, pushing herself into a sitting position. "You want some?" She queried but Felicity shook her head, her mind still racing and turning her stomach into knots far too tight to allow for eating just yet.

"I think I'll eat later but don't let that stop you. Go. Eat." Felicity encouraged, watching as Laurel pursed her lips in thought, only to acquiesce when another loud grumble sounded from her stomach.

"I'll be back in a minute, I just need a can opener." Laurel explained, hurrying off for the kitchen as Felicity continued to lie back on the booth, the heel of her palm pressed to her forehead.

They couldn't wait around like this indefinitely. They had a car that was almost out of gas and a bag of supplies that would be empty after tonight's five star bean dinner. Their situation was perilous and like to grow more desperate the longer they waited to act. Today's apocalypse-necessitated vandalism had been a start, but they couldn't pin all their hopes on Oliver and company coming to their rescue.

 _Ha. Oliver and Company. I wonder if he's heard that before. Probably_. Felicity thought in amusement to herself before she shook her head and focused once more.

Felicity knew that Laurel wouldn't care a lick for Felicity's proposed idea to split up – leaving Laurel at Big Belly Burger in case any of their group showed up, while Felicity ventured out to search for supplies and leave more messages for their friends. Their options, however, were very few in number though. And a backup plan was not a luxury they could afford currently. Survival was supposed to be the priority, sure, but Felicity didn't want to survive at the expense of her friends. She had to find them. For Captain Lance. And for Sara.

She had to make things right.

Sighing, Felicity shoved herself into a sitting position and let her eyes rove the diner, settling once more on the cash register, only to realize something was different. Blue eyes narrowing in concentration, Felicity stared at the object, only to realize why the image seemed wrong. And as she realized it, she felt her heart skip a beat – and not in a good way.

The drawer had been ajar when she and Laurel had first come to Big Belly Burger, crudely forced open so some burglar could steal the contents. Now, however, it was closed.

 _Someone's been in here_. _Someone **living**_.

\-----

The loose gravel crunched underfoot with each step that he took, making any hope of a stealthy approach utterly impossible. Despite this, his years of military training had kicked in and he was walking with all the grace and swiftness that befit a man of his former station within the Army's Special Forces. Quick. (Relatively) Quiet. Controlled. A shadow in the night trying to remain undetected.

He didn't not remain undetected for very long (if he had ever been undetected to begin with).

John Diggle saw the slim beam of red light as he approached the barricaded doorway and instantly he froze, lifting his hands in the air non-threateningly. In answer, the red dot settled on his chest and hovered there, just over his heart.

 _Message received; you can and will not hesitate to kill me on the spot._ He thought to himself, taking a deep breath to steady himself as he stared straight ahead, jaw set and shoulders squared.

"My name is John Diggle," he stated firmly, his voice controlled despite the knowledge that one slip of a finger would lodge a bullet in his chest, "-former Army Special Forces and former Suicide Squad member. My wife, Lyla Michaels – is former ARGUS. I'm here to speak with Amanda Waller or whoever your commanding officer is." He explained levelly, staring coolly ahead instead of staring at the dot that he knew meant a gun was still pointed at him.

Silence met his words and the beginnings of discomfiture began to seep into him as he started to question their decision to come here. What if Waller was dead? What if none of their contacts had survived? ARGUS would have no reason to give them safety. They could be walking into a minefield. Just as he was beginning to consider lighting the flare tucked into the waist of his jeans to signal to Lyla to drive off with the baby and Sin though, the familiar voice of Amanda Waller crackled over the speaker by the barricaded door.

"John Diggle. What a  _pleasant_ surprise.  _Do_ come in."

From another direction entirely, a team of six armed men seemed to materialize from thin air, dressed from head to toe in riot gear with not an inch of exposed skin on them. Circling around him, their weapons in hand, they made for a rather formidable welcome party. Glancing around uneasily, Diggle nodded and, his hands still in the air, he began to walk forward as he was led inside the ARGUS compound.


	22. Chapter 22

It was as she was staring at the closed cash register that she heard it; the soft creak of a door opening and the accompanying shadow that flitted across the far wall. Her skin prickled into gooseflesh as she tried unsuccessfully to find her voice to warn Laurel. Swallowing nervously, Felicity crouched low to the ground and crept toward the direction Laurel had gone, breathing rapidly as she tried to calm herself.

_They're probably just other survivors looking for food._ She tried to reassure herself. _If they were infected, they wouldn't be trying to keep quiet_. She rationalized, though she failed to make herself feel any better about matters.

The sudden, sharp tinkling of glass breaking stole her attention as she heard a soft exclamation  from just around the corner.

_"Oh my gosh_!" Laurel's voice, breathless with surprise, was all the motivation Felicity needed. Rising out of her crouch, Felicity grabbed for the gun she'd had tucked in the waist of her jeans since everything had happened with Captain Lance. There hadn't been reason to use it – until now. With the gun held aloft and her finger on the trigger, she hurtled herself around the corner, eyes blazing angrily as she prepared to stare down their would-be attackers.

"Hold it _right there_!" She warned in a barking voice, doing her best to channel the authority she'd heard police officers use as she pressed the barrel of the gun to the back of the male intruder's head. Her breathing was ragged as she regarded him from behind, his broad shouldered frame going stock still as he felt the gun kiss the back of his head. "Don't move." Felicity warned, pressing the gun more firmly into him.

"Felicity-" Laurel stammered, only for the blonde to shake her head in determination.

"We don't want any trouble but if you start something, we _will_ end it." Felicity warned, not taking her eyes off of the man as she waved in Laurel's general direction. "Laurel, come on. We're leaving." Felicity directed, glaring sharply at the back of the man's head. "Do _not_ follow us."

_Where are we going to go we don't have enough gas to get anywhere oh my gosh what are we going to do what am I doing this is insane._

"Felicity!" Laurel said again, this time her voice bordering on a shout. Chancing a glance Laurel's way, Felicity saw the brunette motioning at the intruder with an exasperated face and it was only then that Felicity realized that the dark leather jacket that Mr. Broad Shoulders was wearing looked vaguely familiar. Before she could place it though, Mr. Broad Shoulders began to turn around, and Felicity reacted instinctively, bringing the butt of the gun to slam down on the back of his head.

A loud grunt of pain mingled with an exclamation of surprise from Laurel but when Felicity turned to flee with her, Laurel was pale faced and wide eyed.

"Felicity, that's not an intruder, _it's Oliver_!"

"I might find the 'don't follow us' part a little hard to go along with."Oliver's voice was soft with a note of muted pain as he cocked his head to the side so he could look at her. He had one hand pressed against the spot on his head where she'd struck him, the other holding his knee to keep himself propped up in his doubled over position.

"Oh thank God." Felicity whispered, flinging herself at him as his arms rose up to meet her, wrapping around her and pulling her in close. For his part, Oliver seemed equally relieved at having been reunited as he buried his face in her hair and breathed her in.

"Geez blondie. That was hardcore." Roy's voice danced with mirth across the room and Felicity spun in Oliver's arms to watch the youth slip out from within the walk-in food freezer, Nyssa following along after him with an approving look at Felicity.

"You were most convincing. I thought for a moment we might walk out to find Oliver's brains in the fryer instead of fries." Nyssa smirked, prompting Felicity to wince at the unpleasant mental image the assassiness' words summoned.

"Err… _thanks_ Nyssa." Felicity mumbled nervously, still clinging desperately to Oliver as she focused her attention on him. "Are you okay?"

"I've survived worse." Oliver assured her with a smile even as she craned her neck to try and see the place on the back of his head where she'd struck him. Roy, however, beat her to the punch. As he walked behind the embracing pair, he let out a low whistle, his face busting into a wide grin.

"Wow, she got you good. I can see the bump from here." Roy stated a little too gleefully. Gaping in horror, Felicity scrambled to try and see for herself, only for Oliver to turn so that she was staring at the front of him and not the back.

"It's fine. Trust me." He silenced her objections, his grip on her tightening ever so slightly as he ran his eyes over her, seemingly checking her for wounds. "How are you?"

"I'm alright." Felicity lied quickly, biting her lip as she ducked to avoid his gaze, aware that his keen radar for reading her would alert him to the fact that she was lying but in no mood to have this conversation now. Instead, she redirected the conversation. "Is anyone else with you?!"

She felt Oliver's body tense around her, saw the shadow fall across his face and the way his jaw clenched subtly and she knew before he'd even said the words.

"No, it's just us – the others aren't with you?" He asked urgently, desperation building in his voice. Felicity suppressed a sob and shook her head, blinking rapidly.

"No. It's just the two of us. We…. The herd, it took us by surprise. I was outside with Sara-" Felicity began, only to be interrupted.

"You were with Sara? Where is she?!" Nyssa inquired, taking an urgent step forward to Felicity, one hand outstretched. "I-Is she alive?" The woman's voice held the most infinitesimally small quaver to it but for Nyssa, it was as close to gnashing her teeth, beating her breast, and tearing her hair as one could expect.

"I… she tried to distract them to create a diversion so I could run inside and warn the others. I don't… I don't know what happened to her after we split up." Felicity confessed, watching as Nyssa's eyes glazed over with what seemed to be tears that she was fighting to keep at bay. "I'm sorry, Nyssa." Felicity lamented, glancing to Laurel who had turned suddenly dour at mention of Sara's uncertain fate.

"And… Diggle?" Oliver asked, his voice hoarse as he did his best to remain stoic in the face of potential heartache. Felicity lowered her gaze and pressed a hand to her temple.

"We haven't seen anyone until you three showed up. It's just been us… alone." Laurel sighed dejectedly, looking suddenly much more world weary when confronted with the reminders of the hardships they'd endured in such a short time.

"We got separated. Laurel was trapped and Captain Lance, he and I were trying to get her out. Diggle and Lyla and Sin and the baby…" Felicity trailed off, shaking her head. "I didn't think we were going to make it. The infected were everywhere and I just kept thinking of the baby and I made him do it. I told him to go, to leave us behind. I know he didn't want to but what choice did he have?" Felicity rushed, her voice increasing in pitch as she got more and more worked up with every word. 

"And  C-Captain Lance," Felicity began to try to explain, trembling in Oliver's arms as she tried to find the words but before she could he stopped her, shaking his head.

"I know… We went back to the mansion. We… we saw." Oliver gave Felicity's hand a squeeze and stepped away from her for a moment, his hand lingering in hers before he broke contact with her as he stepped nearer to Laurel with cautious steps. "Laurel… I'm so sorry." He breathed, waiting with baited breath as the brunette slowly met his gaze, her eyes watery with tears.

"He's really gone." She choked out before she fell into Oliver's arms and held him tight as she sobbed while he comforted her wordlessly as the others looked on. Felicity felt her heart race with the weight of her guilt, the rapport of the gun echoing in her mind and the muscle memory of the gun's kickback making her fingers twitch uneasily.

_I'm the reason he's gone_. She thought faintly, feeling suddenly cold in the room that had been almost stifling due to their combined body heat and lack of ventilation. _I killed Quentin Lance_. She was still mulling over that harsh reality when a hand on the small of her back brought her back to the present with a jolt as Oliver resumed his position at her side, Laurel having collected herself.

"What do we do now?" Felicity asked weakly, trying to shake the stormcloud in her mind and failing miserably.

"Now? We rest here for the night. The rest of it, we'll figure out tomorrow. But we'll find them. We will." Oliver stated confidently, looking around the circle as Nyssa, Roy, and Laurel all gave nods with varying levels of conviction in his claim.

Letting Oliver guide her gently out of the kitchen as the others set about eating their dinner (Oliver's group having mercifully come moderately provisioned), Felicity found herself curled up against Oliver's side in a roomy corner booth, his fingers stroking her head and mussing her hair as he soothed her with his presence, offering her the comfort and security she so desperately needed.

"Have you eaten anything?" He asked softly and she shook her head, realizing she probably looked like death warmed over. Again. He kept finding her like this.

"Laurel and I were about to eat when we hear you guys moving around." Felicity commented, a flicker of a smile passing over her face. "Hiding out in the freezer, huh?"

"In our defense, we didn't know who was coming into the building so we took the first hiding place we could." Oliver returned teasingly, shrugging off his bag and rifling through it before he produced a few slices of bread and an unopened can of soup. Offering them up to her, he gave her one of his charmer-boy smiles. "Have dinner with me?" He asked and she smiled as she leaned against him and nodded.

They ate in companionable silence, quickly polishing off the sparse food and drink but even the small quantity left Felicity feeling refreshed but sleepy. Sagging against Oliver in the booth, she looked out at Laurel, Nyssa, and Roy who had spread out on the floor of the diner not far from Oliver and Felicity's booth. The sight of them – fellow, warm bodied, living people – made a small nugget of hope swell in her chest. _Maybe we can find each other and really beat this thing_.

"Sleep." Oliver's voice roused her from her muddled thoughts as he urged her quietly, pressing a gentle kiss to a partly healed cut on her cheek. "I'll be here when you wake up. I promise." He vowed, prompting her to nod gratefully, her head cushioned on his chest.

"No more splitting up." She murmured with a quiet hum of contentment, echoing the promise he had made to her before he'd left with Roy and Nyssa. Smiling at her words, he nodded down at her.

"That's right. We're in this. _Together_."

\-----

_"Stay behind me. If I'm infected, make a run for the building. You don't stop until you're safe, you hear?" Captain Lance directed, looking at her with a father's protective gleam burning in his eyes._

_"I'm not going to leave you!" She cried out, reaching a hand for him as the dead began to surround him. Somehow, he kept falling farther from her outstretched hand, his fingers only barely brushing hers before the dead engulfed him. She yelled his name and the last thing she heard before his hand disappeared beneath the bodies was the sound of his screams as he was eaten alive…_

Felicity jolted awake with a start, her heart hammering and a scream dying on her lips as she sat bolt upright, a blanket she didn't remember putting over herself pooling at her waist. Her breathing came in great, uneven gasps as she looked beside her and glimpsed Oliver, his eyes wide as he stared down at her sleepily.

"Felicity, are you alright?!"

"You're awake." She remarked groggily, wincing at the notion. "Did I wake you?" She whispered with a groan as he stirred beside her, a questioning hand touching upon her hip.  

"You were struggling in your sleep and you screamed."He commented softly in place of saying 'yes', his voice heavy with concern and swathed in the grogginess of lingering sleep.

"I um… I was having a nightmare." She shrugged, trying unsuccessfully to dismiss his concerns. Instead, Oliver frowned and leaned in closer to her, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"As someone with some experience with night terrors… do you want to talk about it?" He offered softly, pressing his lips gently to the top of her shoulder. Even through the leather of the jacket on her shoulders, she felt the warmth of his touch and a faint shiver traced down her spine and she closed her eyes as she tried to focus.

"I-It's nothing." She shook her head, glancing to Oliver uneasily. His eyes stayed trained on hers, suddenly wide awake when confronted with the possibility that she might need him.

"If it's scaring you awake at night, it is the _definition_ of 'something'." Oliver mumbled, his lips skimming against her skin as he spoke, trailing gentle kisses down the slope of her shoulder blades. Her eyes closed then and she shivered as the memories of the dead from her dreams reaching out for her came back to her mind.

She pushed away from him with a start, having forgotten where they were as she tumbled out of the booth. Spilling onto the floor in a graceless heap, she sat up quickly, trembling violently from head to toe. She tucked her knees against her chest and curled into a ball of sorts, tears winding down her cheeks as she spiraled further out of control.

Oliver was beside her in an instant, wrapping one arm around her figure and hauling her into his arms before he lifted her and carried her out of the seating area and towards the back of the restaurant. With his warm arms around her comfortingly, Felicity felt herself fall to pieces in his embrace as he carried her into the freezer so they could have privacy. As he held her, she cried herself hoarse, replaying the moments leading up to the Captain's death over and over and over again.

It felt like eons had passed before she resurfaced from the ocean of her tears to breathe and think clearly again, looking up to find Oliver staring down at her with single minded focus.

"Hey." He said softly and she swallowed thickly twice before she could manage to speak.

"Hey."

"Where did you go?" He asked knowingly and she angled herself so that she could see his face as he stared at her, a deep understanding in his eyes.

"Back to the mansion." She rasped, her voice catching before she managed her next words. "To the Captain's… his last moments." Felicity explained, her heart stuttering in her chest at the mere memory.

"It wasn't your fault." Oliver assured her softly. "You couldn't have stopped a herd like that. And Laurel, she told me what you did. Without you, Laurel _and_ her father might have died." Oliver tried to reason with her but Felicity felt the knot in her throat tightening.

"I killed Captain Lance."  

She felt him go still beneath her, the subtle tension creeping into his body as he processed the words she'd spoken (or blurted, rather).

"Y-You…. _what_?"

"He was bit a-and he was going to do it himself but... No one should have to end their life like that! So I went into the bathroom and I told him I would do it for him. He was relieved, I think. We talked until…" She trailed off, going quiet as she lost the words to describe what had followed her talk with Lance. Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, Felicity tried to screw up her courage. "I checked him for a pulse and he… he was gone. And then I did it. I pulled the trigger. I'm the reason he's dead." She rambled in a far-off voice, still feeling dazed and unable to process it herself.

"Felicity… you didn't kill Quentin Lance." Oliver objected quietly as he sat up straighter and looked down at her intently, his eyes dark as he regarded her with a foreign look. Was this fear? Was he seeing her differently now that he knew she was a killer, that she had their friend's blood on her hands?

She couldn't blame him if he did see her differently. She _was_ different. Everything had changed.

"What do you call putting a bullet in someone's brain then, Oliver? Because I think the general definition is 'murder'." Felicity retorted hotly, burying her face against his chest as she tried to avoid looking at him, terrified of seeing the moment he realized what a monster she was.

Instead, there was a long beat of silence and she felt his fingers touch the side of her face gently, questioningly. When she answered by pressing her face against his chest more firmly, she felt his lips skim across her skin, his breath warm on her ear.

"In this case? I call it 'mercy'." He breathed softly, pressing a kiss just above her ear. "You gave Captain Lance the only peace you could and at great personal sacrifice. Felicity… that's an act of true friendship if I ever heard of one."

From the darkness of her self-imposed smothering, Felicity fell still, contemplating what Oliver had said. She was still contemplating it sometime later when he pressed a soft kiss to the back of her head.

"It's my patrol shift but I'll be back when it's over… Try to get some sleep." He advised quietly, not trying to force her to look at him but simply talking to the back of her head, respecting her need to dwell on the events that haunted her so. She felt his body stir beneath hers as he shifted her out of his lap and to the floor so he could stand and prepare himself to leave. It wasn't until she heard the freezer door open that her heart rate quickened, the idea of being separated from him so soon altogether too painful.

"And Felicity? …I don't know if this helps, or what it says about me but… For what it's worth? What you did for Lance? I… I think it took a great deal of bravery. And if anything, it makes me love you even more."

The door had already creaked shut by the time she sat upright, so she flew from the freezer with the utmost of haste. Without wasting a moment to compose herself, she made a beeline for the back door and raced into the alley without bothering to check her surroundings. When she finally skidded to a halt at the end of the alley, it was just in time to see Roy departing towards the front entrance of the restaurant, leaving Oliver to take over watch.

When he turned and saw her, his face turned into a frown and he stalked forward, one hand going to her elbow.

"Felicity? What's wrong?" He asked urgently, his eyes scanning her sharply as he looked for wounds or some other outward cause for concern.

"Nothing – you left me literally like five seconds ago." She dismissed his worries, looking at him imploringly. "I couldn't just let you come out here alone." She murmured, shifting nervously before him as he frowned all the more at her.

"I'll be alright, Felicity. I promise."

"You don't know that. You left to go look for a new safehouse and one of our friends died and we're not sure what happened to the others. We never had any guarantees before and we definitely don't now so what I'm saying is I don't want to be anywhere except with you." She rushed, heaving a sigh at the end of her frenzied speech. Oliver looked at her with wide eyes, shaking his head slowly as he drew nearer to her.

"You know, before everything happened, I used to think the safest place for you or anyone else that I loved was as far away from me as possible. And now, with the world falling apart around us and we're arguably in more danger than we've ever been in before. And somehow, I can't imagine being anywhere except at your side because I think you're safest with me there to protect you." Oliver commented, studying her with such intensity that she shivered beneath the scrutiny.

"Good, because you're kind of stuck with me. I kind of love you." She answered back, her voice ringing with muted fits of laughter which he did not return, instead fixing her with a look so steady and unwavering it made her blush a bit.

"I love you, Felicity Smoak. And I would rather be stuck in an apocalypse with you than on a tropical paradise with anyone else." He commented gravely, to which she couldn't resist a teasing reply.

"Yeah but you're a shipwreck victim; 'tropical paradise' is kinda out of the question when you've had to survive for five years on an arguably hellish island." She teased faintly, watching him continue to stare at her pointedly.

He kissed her then, the sort of kiss that would have made her knees turn to jelly if he hadn't kept a steadying hand on her back, drawing her to him so she was crushed against him, sharing warmth amidst the cool night air. They broke apart only because a sudden clatter sounded from not far beyond the alley, stealing both of their attention away.

"Back inside." Oliver demanded in a voice no more than a whispered growl.

"But-"

"Felicity I don't want to be apart from you either but if there are infected out there, or people that wish us ill, I cannot think with you out here. Go inside. If anything happens, I _will_ come get you. I promise. I'm not leaving you again." He swore, giving her a gentle push back towards the restaurant. Feeling torn, she took one hesitant step towards the restaurant, only to turn back and rejoin him, a hand going to the gun she still had stashed in her waistband. Despite her earlier snafu, she was still keeping it close.

"With you." She stated firmly, allowing no room for discussion as she peeked out from the alley, her eyes sweeping across the darkened streets. With no streetlights or other man-made sources of lighting, the city felt eerily dark and she could hardly make heads or tails of the street in the minimal light cast from the waning moon and stars above.  

A hand wrapped around her waist as Oliver firmly tugged her back into the alley, his other hand expertly forcing her hand with the gun down.

"Much though I appreciate the backup, I would feel a lot better if you kept the gun holstered there, Annie Oakley." He murmured in her ear, tucking her behind him as he flattened himself against the exterior wall of the restaurant.

"Annie Oakley? Seriously?"

"I could have called you 'Calamity Jane'." He countered in what she imagined was his attempt at making her feel better but in answer she merely folded her arms before her, unimpressed. Oblivious (as always), Oliver slowly peered around the wall and looked beyond, into the street, only to duck back behind the wall a moment later.

"Did you see something? Seriously? Your vision must be way better than 20/20 because I didn-" She rambled, only to be silenced by a leather-gloved finger pressing against her lips.

"There are men with guns – high powered guns, with red dot sighted guns." Oliver whispered urgently, prompting Felicity to look at him blankly. For once, she was the one in need of layman's terms.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning there are men. _Living men_ coming this way with guns. The kind with crazy good accuracy that could turn this into a modern day OK Corral if we don't get out of here." Oliver explained, drawing Felicity along with him as he rushed back into the restaurant, shushing her as they went.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, sorry for that wait! Unexpected back to back illnesses had me out of commission for a while, combined with a long vacation but I am back and so are the undead in this chapter!! Enjoy!

"We have exactly five seconds to get out of here!" Oliver stage whispered inside of the diner as he and Felicity rushed in, rousing their companions. Nyssa was on her feet quickly, eyes blazing as she grabbed her bow.

"What's going on?" Laurel murmured sleepily as she hurried to her feet, glancing around blearily as Roy hustled over to join Oliver and Felicity, his eyes searching.

"What is it?"

"We've got hostiles incoming and they're armed. _Well_ armed." Oliver amended, still holding fast to Felicity's hand as he drew her along after him as he led the others from the dining area back behind the counter and into the kitchen. "They're approaching from the south. Roy, you and Nyssa cover our flank, I'll take Felicity and Laurel out through the alley. We can't take the cars, it'll lead them right to us. Lets plan to meet back up at the docks if we get separated." Oliver rushed, peering out the back door and into the alley.

"Let's go." He whispered, sharing a glance with Felicity before he hurried them both out into the dark alley, Laurel on their heels. Reluctantly, Oliver released Felicity's hand so he could nock an arrow in his bow. Readied thusly, he took the lead as the small party slipped out through the alley. They hadn't gone more than thirty feet, however, before Oliver's body went taut as one of his bowstrings and he flashed a hand motion Felicity was pretty sure meant 'stop'.

Then, suddenly they were backing up the way they'd come, backpedaling furiously as Oliver looked around for another route.

"Get back, get back, go." Oliver warned, meeting Roy's gaze. "Roy, give me an exit strategy." He pleaded and his protégé looked around desperately.

"Fire escape, this way." Roy rushed, leading the way as the group scrambled for escape. Waving Oliver and Felicity ahead of him, Roy stood guard at the bottom of the ramp, watching as the others scampered up it until only he and Nyssa remained.

"We'll hold them off." Nyssa stated confidently and Oliver shook his head.

"No, do _not_ engage; if it's Zytle and his men, they've got way more firepower and manpower than we do. Let's go. _All of us_." Oliver demanded, prompting Roy and then a grudging Nyssa to follow suit. They'd made it only a third of the way up the steps, however, before a single gunshot rang out, ringing shrilly against the metal of the stairs over Oliver and Felicity's head, prompting the blonde to duck instinctively with a cringe as the sound reverberated through the metal staircase.

"That was a warning shot; don't move, or the next one won't be." A voice cautioned them. Peering down, Felicity saw the small red beam of light from one of the man's guns as it settled over her chest. In her peripheral vision, she could see Oliver saw it too and judging by the way his whole body tensed, he was none too pleased by the sight.

"What do you want?!" Oliver growled down at them as he quivered with rage. Felicity knew it was taking all of Oliver's self control not to tuck her behind him; only the men's threat to shoot if they moved kept him from doing just that, she knew.

"Oliver?"

A familiar voice broke through the tension and Felicity felt her eyes widen as, despite herself, she pushed forward to the edge of the fire escape, peering down at the men below as she craned to see. There was a noise of dissent and she saw the red dot on her chest move in reaction to her movements, prompting her to freeze.

"Put the damn guns down." The familiar voice snarled and Felicity peered down below in time to see a figure step forward and shove the weapon of his comrade down, prompting the red dot on Felicity's chest to disappear. In unison, Felicity and Oliver breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oliver, that you?"

"Diggle?" Oliver answered, staring down at the group of armed men dressed in all black fatigues.

"Boy am I glad to see you." Diggle answered stepping forward and smiling up at his friends. "You all are a sight for sore eyes." John nodded as his eyes passed over each familiar face, his eyes lingering on Felicity. "And you, Felicity Smoak, are a damn fool, running into danger like that." He scolded, referencing the last time he'd seen her when she'd gone headfirst into a crowd of infected to try and save Laurel.

"A fact for which I am very appreciative." Laurel murmured and Diggle nodded, his smile falling as he glanced around the group again, consternation on his face. "What about Detective Lance? And Sara?"He queried, watching as their faces all fell in sorrow. Nodding and clearing his throat, Diggle didn't press the subject.

"What about you? Are Lyla and the baby alright?" Felicity asked breathlessly.

"And Sin? Is she still with you guys?" Roy questioned anxiously and Diggle held his hand aloft.

"I'll explain everything. But for now we should move. We encountered a pretty large pack of the infected three blocks back. We can talk when we're all somewhere safe." Diggle explained and Oliver nodded slowly, calculatingly.

"And I'm assuming your pals here are going to come with us?" Oliver mused and Diggle glanced at the men surrounding him, hands still on their weapons, and he nodded.

"Yeah, they're coming too. But don't worry; I'm their commanding officer." Diggle comforted the group with a snort and a shake of his head as he looked over his well provisioned group of soldiers. Looking to Oliver for direction, Felicity could tell that he didn't like the situation, but his trust in Diggle outweighed his doubts – or at least, it mostly did.

"Oliver, it's not like we have many options." Laurel murmured uneasily and Oliver gave a terse nod, still on edge. Keeping his eyes locked with Diggle's, Oliver slowly led the group back down the fire escape as Diggle strode to meet them. The two men embraced as Oliver reached the ground floor again, Felicity following suit and hugging her friend tightly.

"I was going to be really pissed if you were dead." Felicity muttered, her voice choked with emotion as she finally released John and returned to Oliver's side, wiping away tears as she did so.

"Don't I know it." Diggle returned teasingly before he and Roy shook hands, and Laurel and he embraced quickly while Nyssa gave him a simple nod of greeting. "Alright, let's move." Diggle directed, both to his friends and to his armed officers, who snapped to attention and began to circle the group in a protective formation as they departed the alley.

"We've got vehicles parked over by the gas station; we'll take those and I'll explain when we're en route." Diggle said, making pointed eye contact with Oliver. For all their joy at being reunited, Felicity could feel the undercurrent of tension running between Oliver and Diggle. And whatever prompted it?

She didn't like it one bit.

"A man with a plan." Oliver responded in a clipped tone and Diggle nodded briefly as he led the way, prompting Oliver to set his jaw in a way that Felicity knew meant nothing good could come of this. _Uh oh doesn't even begin to cover it…_

They moved in swift silence thereafter, Oliver holding fast to Felicity as they moved, his grip white knuckled and his eyes bright and alert. It was clear to Felicity that Oliver was going with things but that he did so with reservations. The stress of the unknown began to get to her, so much so that when one of the infected came lumbering around a corner at the group, Felicity felt no more tense for it.

The undead were no more frightening than some of the living, at this point.

Instinctively, Oliver drew Felicity behind him but before he could grab for his bow, Diggle stepped forward and grabbed a knife from his hip, quickly slicing deep into the infected teenager's skull and perforating the brain with a quick stroke. As the body fell at his feet, Diggle glanced back at them and nodded at Oliver.

"Let's go. There will be more where that one came from."

They hustled through garbage ridden streets, abandoned cars and downed telephone poles blocking their way and slowing them on their flight. By the time they reached the gas station where Diggle's team had three, sleek black SUVs parked, they'd taken out over a dozen of the infected with surprising (and mildly terrifying) ease.

"You two with us. You three, with them." One of the soldiers stepped forward and attempted to split up the group into two vehicles, prompting the group of friends to go stock still.

"We stay together, or we don't go." Oliver shot back hotly, bristling as he turned to stare down the soldier in question. Felicity saw a ripple pass over the rest of the soldiers as they touched instinctively on their weapons until Diggle raised a fist and put the kibosh on any retort – verbal or otherwise.

"They'll ride with me. Ferreira, you come too. Gray, Patterson I want you two to drive the other two vehicles. Scull, Turton, and Sykes, make sure the gear gets loaded up properly. And nobody talks with Waller except me, unless you want a dressing down to make your ears bleed." Diggle menaced in a tone that made Felicity certain she would sooner risk infection than speak with Waller and incur Diggle's wrath.

Soldier Diggle was scary.

"You lot; let's go." Diggle directed, drawing the group to the nearest SUV and helping them pile in. "Ferreira, you drive." Diggle instructed as he clambered into the vehicle. With Laurel and Nyssa in the back seat, Felicity, Oliver and Diggle took the middle row while Roy took shotgun and Diggle's man 'Ferreira' took the driver seat. As the vehicle roared to life and quickly departed the gas station, Oliver rounded on Diggle.

"Alright. Explain. _Quickly_." Oliver demanded sharply as Felicity sat between the two men, gawping at them.

"When I couldn't find any of you, I did the only thing I could think of. Oliver, we've got the baby. Lyla and I won't make it on the road and we weren't about to send Sin out there on her own. They're all back at ARGUS' headquarters. I cut a deal with Waller. Their safety in exchange for me joining her ranks." Diggle hurried and Oliver frowned back at his dearest friend.

"Waller's all about getting the upper hand. How on earth did you swing it for her to take on three mouths to feed that aren't going to go out in the field to help her?" Oliver challenged and Diggle sighed.

"She wants you and she knew I was her best chance at finding you. I didn't think I'd be able to but you two are so damn predictable, going to Big Belly Burger. You're a pair of sentimental fools." Diggle commented sharply, shaking his head at them.

"So what, we work for ARGUS now?" Felicity queried, panic rising in her chest. Even the idea of having access to the _next gen_ next gen tech that ARGUS had did not temper her fear at being under the thumb of Amanda Waller. She didn't trust the woman as far as she could throw her. And unlike Diggle or Oliver, Felicity was pretty sure she couldn't throw anyone, and even if she could, certainly not for any distance.

Basically she didn't trust Waller. At all. Not one bit.

"Not a chance." Oliver responded within the same breath, shaking his head. "Diggle, we can't. Waller… I don't trust her with the cure, if it really exists. The only people I trust are in this car."

"And in Central City."Felicity added with a hurried interjection.

"And in Central City." Oliver amended with a nod, focusing on Diggle now."You can come with us. We're stronger altogether." Oliver offered but Diggle shook his head.

"Nothing's changed Oliver; I still can't take my family out there." Diggle declined apologetically and from the back seat, Laurel suddenly piped up.

"And I'm _not_ leaving without Sara." The brunette refused staunchly as Nyssa nodded.

"Nor shall I; until I know of her fate, I am afraid I cannot aid you in your mission." Nyssa declined firmly and Felicity felt her sense of hope slipping away.

"Waller could be persuaded to help you find Sara." Diggle offered, heaving a heavy sigh. "She'll expect something for it in return though. And you don't back out of deals with Amanda Waller." Diggle warned, but the two women shared a look and then nodded.

"Whatever it takes. I'm finding her." Laurel vowed.

" _We_ will find her." Nyssa corrected sharply, raising a brow in Laurel's direction but otherwise remaining stoic as she threw in with Laurel's lot.

"So that's two for staying and two for leaving… Roy?" Oliver questioned in a soft voice, his brows raised expectantly as he waited for his protégé to make his choice.

"I go where you go." Roy swore firmly, glancing sadly at Diggle. "Tell Sin I said sorry." He offered up and Diggle nodded.

"She'll understand." Diggle nodded and Roy sighed, not quite believing the man.

"So what now?" Felicity asked in a timid voice, staring pointedly at the soldier still driving them ever closer to Amanda Waller – who happened to have heard every word they'd just said.

"You don't have to worry about Ferreira. We go back a ways." Diggle explained, making eye contact with said man in the rearview mirror. "Drop us at the on-ramp for the 75 East Bound." Diggle directed and Oliver, stunned, nodded.

"We can work with that. But John, what about you? If Waller's only taking care of the others so you can bring me in-" Oliver began, only to be cut short by his friend.

"If Laurel and Nyssa are still coming back with us, that should hold Waller for a while. You two are nothing to sneer at." Diggle commented, glancing at the two women in the rearmost seats of the vehicle.

"Thank you." Oliver returned, reaching a hand out for John to shake which the man readily did.

"So… this is it? We just… split up? Go our separate ways?" Felicity queried, tears forming in her eyes.

"We'll be back." Oliver hurried to reassure her, grabbing one of her hands in both of his. "We'll go to Central City and no matter what happens there, we'll come back and find you all. No man left behind." Oliver swore.

"Or woman, as it were." Nyssa interjected teasingly.

"You get the idea." Oliver responded with a sigh, holding Felicity's gaze. "I promise. We'll be back for them. But if you want to stay, you can. You don't have to go to Central City; it will be dangerous. I'd understand if you wanted to stay here-"

"No; if you go, I go."  Felicity cut him off, shaking her head as she held his gaze. "We aren't splitting up again, remember? I'm with you – no matter what." She confirmed, eliciting the slightest of smiles from him.

Turning his gaze back to Diggle, Oliver nodded and took a deep, steadying breath as he still held firmly to Felicity's hand.

"You have radio communications up and running at ARGUS?"

"Waller's got a pretty decent setup in place, yeah." Diggle confirmed and Oliver nodded.

"Check the frequencies every day at noon. When we get to Central City, we'll try to make contact that way, let you know the status of things." Oliver hurried, catching sight of the traffic sign signaling the approaching on-ramp that Diggle had mentioned earlier.

"Oliver," Diggle intoned gruffly, staring hard at the man who had become something of a brother to him, "be careful out there. Watch your six." Diggle advised, swallowing roughly as he offered Oliver a hand and the two quickly shook. Turning his gaze to Felicity, Diggle's eyes softened. "And you – for the love of all things good and holy, _do not_ go and get yourself knocked on the head again." Diggle pleaded and Felicity smiled as she nodded and threw her arms around Diggle, hugging him tightly. His arms slowly came up to embrace her and she did her best to remain strong as Diggle and Roy exchanged goodbyes.

"Make it look convincing." Diggle said as he looked Oliver square in the eye. Before Felicity could question what he was talking about though, Oliver decked John in the face so hard Felicity was pretty sure _she_ felt it.

"What on _earth_ are you doing?!" Felicity squealed, as from the front seat, Roy and the agent John had called Ferreira hastily swapped seats, allowing Roy to assume driving with only moderate swerving and rocking of the SUV.

"We can't just drop you off; Waller's men in the other SUVs would notice." John spoke up, spitting aside a mouthful of blood as he waved for Oliver to hit him again. Oliver obliged with a grunt, shaking his hand as he examined John's face.

"We're going to make it look like we staged a coup." Oliver explained, glancing at Felicity briefly before he set to work on Ferreira, striking the man several times before he seemed satisfied. "Then we toss them out of the SUV." Oliver explained hurriedly as Felicity gaped at them like a fish out of water, unable to believe the sense of calm with which they were discussing shoving their friend out of a moving vehicle.

"That is so not an okay plan!" She shrieked, only for John to put a hand on her shoulder.

"Felicity, we're out of good plans at this point; this is the best we've got." He explained, looking past her to Ferreira and nodding. "It'll be okay; just gotta tuck and roll." John murmured dismissively, eliciting a groan from Felicity as she covered her eyes.

"I can't watch this." She sighed as Oliver tugged the SUV sliding side door open.

"Remember; listen for the radio at noon. We'll make contact when we can." Oliver confirmed with John. The two men embraced roughly and then, without further preamble Oliver gave John a firm shove, sending him toppling to the pavement below. Ferreira followed suit a moment later after receiving a few punches, and then Nyssa and Laurel were moving forward, Laurel looking more than a little uncertain.

"Not exactly the farewell party I was expecting." She commented nervously as the SUV squealed around a gentle curve. Looking at Oliver uncertainly, Laurel swallowed and then glanced back to Nyssa.

"You ready?" She inquired but in answer, the assassin only raised her brows and grinned before leaping from the SUV with a grace that Felicity thought, quite frankly, was a little unfair. Roy slowed briefly to allow Laurel to jump out after her and then it was just the three of them in the SUV, the wind whipping by the open door.

"When we're all back together, we're going to have a serious discussion about how we choose to make exits around here." Felicity panted as she fell back against her seat, breathing heavily as she tried to process everything that had just transpired.

Over the course of an hour they'd gone from numbering five, to numbering over a dozen, and now they were down to three. She was no expert, but somehow, Felicity didn't think their odds of survival were probably very high if it was just her, Oliver, and Roy up against hundreds of thousands of infected Central City and Starling City inhabitants.

But it wasn't just the three of them; Cisco and Caitlin had been alive when they'd made their radio call. And if they were alive, there was hope that others were too. Two of the smartest minds in Central City had been alive and working on a cure. If that didn't tip the scales in their favor at least slightly, Felicity wasn't sure what would.

\-----

"I appreciate the need for us to stay off of main roads and away from anywhere that Waller might come looking for us but Central City is _hundreds_ of miles away. _Six hundred miles_ , to be exact." Felicity lamented as the trio walked in single file order, Oliver in the lead, Roy in the rear, and Felicity sandwiched protectively between the two. They'd walked for a full day after their encounter with Diggle and the walking had definitely taken its toll on them all but none moreso than Felicity. 

"You're just full of fun facts, aren't you?" Roy groused from behind her and Felicity shot him a look but kept talking as the sun sank low on the horizon.

"Remember when we had a car? I do. It was great. Remember how great it was? We moved a lot faster, we were safer. So remind me, _why did we ditch the car?!_ " Felicity queried grumpily.

"Because it was an ARGUS car."

"Beggars can't be choosers." Felicity cut in, prompting Oliver to turn and look at her as he kept walking.

"ARGUS probably had the car wired so they could track it. So we had to ditch it." Oliver explained and Felicity nodded along, perfectly understanding his reasoning at least up to that point.

"Yes but now that we've ditched it why can't we get another one?!" Felicity pressed. "It will take us _forever_ to get to Central City if we walk the whole way. I'm wearing shoes that aren't even mine, and they are killing me."

"There's a point to this, right?" Oliver cut in and Felicity poked him in the shoulder with a little scowl.

"Yes there's a point! The point is, I am not equipped to walk six hundred miles along these train tracks in someone else's tennis shoes. I need a break, Oliver. Or at least better shoes." Felicity explained. It was then that her sort of boyfriend stopped and turned to face her.

"Let's see 'em." Oliver sighed, ushering Felicity to the ground and helping her pry the shoes in question off of her feet. Felicity winced as they did so, the ill-fitting shoes having rubbed her feet to the point of blistering. And then the blisters had broken open, leaving her feet raw. As he looked over her feet, Oliver grimaced and turned to look at her apologetically.

"Felicity, I didn't know it was this bad." He apologized and Felicity raised a hand to stop him before he got in too deep.

"Oliver, you didn't know so please don't blame yourself for this. I just… I'm not in the same physical shape that you two are and the shoes are not helping." She explained as she wriggled her toes under his nose teasingly, prompting him to grab her foot and tickle it lightly. Squirming beneath the soft touch, Felicity squealed with laughter, clapping a hand over her mouth belatedly as her eyes bulged guiltily.

"Okay seriously guys?" Roy cut in, breaking up the pair and looking around uneasily. "Let's not. Not here, in the open, with almost no weapons. And more importantly, not in front of me. Ever. Seriously." Roy grunted out in disgust as he continued to stand guard as Oliver tended to Felicity. There was little that he could do for her, given their lack of supplies, but just taking a break from being on her feet helped tremendously.

After all, Felicity's idea of a marathon didn't involve 26.2 miles of anything so much as it did binge watching all the seasons of Doctor Who.

"Can you keep going?" Oliver asked gently and Felicity nodded, grudgingly putting the shoes back on her feet with only minimal wincing.

"She can't keep going like this for long, Oliver." Roy interjected and Oliver's features grew dark as he nodded wordlessly and he kneeled over Felicity, tying her shoes for her intently. When he'd finished, he helped her up, his eyes lingering on her with concern.

"I'm okay." She assured him and after a few more moments he nodded, rubbing his arm as he hovered close by.

"Let me know when you need a break again; I don't want you running yourself ragged. Your shoulder is still healing and we're all tired and hungry. I can't have you passing out or getting yourself hurt even more." Oliver reminded her and Felicity offered a fleeting grin.

"You're just afraid of my scar count passing yours." She teased and he rolled his eyes at her but resumed walking with a low chuckle.

"Somehow, I think my record is still safe." Oliver commented in amusement as he lifted his leather jacket high enough for some of his back to be visible to her. She placed a hand gently on his side before she let her fingers trace up his ribs and then, gentle as could be, her hand dropped away as she fell into step alongside him, looping her arm through his sweetly as she pillowed her head against him. And for one, brief moment, things almost felt normal. The witty banter they had always enjoyed, the ease of interacting, the physical closeness, all of it felt so _right_. Even now.

"Your four o'clock. Get down!" Roy grunted in a whisper from behind them, drawing Oliver to an instant halt. Before Felicity could process what Roy's words had meant, Oliver was pulling her low to the ground with him, on the far side of the train tracks so that they were partly concealed behind the rise of the tracks. Lying in the gravel, Felicity knew better than to ask questions as Oliver and Roy both clutched their bows. As Felicity watched, she saw a lone, stumbling figure of one of the Vertigo victims staggering in the same direction the trio was headed. The old woman's nightgown billowed out behind her like a bloody flag bearer leading an army into battle.

And an army indeed followed her.

Dozens upon dozens of the infected limped in the direction of Central City, all in various stages of decay. With limbs bent at unnatural angles or missing entirely, the sight was ghastly in the extreme. But as a child of no more than thirteen staggered along on the fringe of the crowd, Felicity couldn't bear to look any longer. She buried her face against Oliver's side, trying to focus on breathing as the three of them waited for the herd to pass, all the while praying their luck held long enough for the herd to pass with the trio unnoticed.

It was nearly ten minutes later before they dared to stir, the herd having passed by some time ago. Rising slowly, Felicity's earlier high spirits had been considerably sobered and as she looked at the two men, she saw theirs had as well.

"Thank goodness the wind didn't shift directions." Roy muttered as he dusted off his leather garments.

"They're headed towards Central City." Oliver commented darkly, his brows knitted into a frown as he studied the place where the herd had disappeared.

"Let's hope they change course; I don't feel like getting any closer than we just were with any of them." Roy mused sourly and Felicity nodded with a gulp, her hand reaching out and fingers twining with Oliver's for comfort.

"I think it's time we put your hotwiring skills to use again, Roy." Oliver murmured and Roy looked at his mentor in surprise.

"What about not wanting to risk detection by Waller? You said she'd be able to track us more easily by vehicle." Roy reminded and Oliver cast another hard look to the hundreds of footprints left behind by the dead.

"We'll just have to take that risk." Oliver sighed, giving Felicity's hand a reassuring squeeze before  they set off once more, this time crossing the train tracks as they headed for the nearby town to scavenge a vehicle. And that _should_ have made her ecstatic, because really, this whole hiking thing was totally not Felicity's forte. But something deep inside her gut was more unsettled than she could put into words by the appearance of the herd that seemed Central City bound.

Something, she feared, was about to go wrong. Very wrong.

_Or perhaps_ , she thought to herself, _it already has_.


End file.
